


Cobweb Hearts

by DreamsAreMyWords



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Bulletproof!Lexa, Clexa, ClexaHalloweenWeek Day 2, Day 2, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Faery!Clarke, Fluff, Happy Ending, Humor, Immortal!Clexa, Linctavia - Freeform, Minor Angst, Romantic Comedy, Roommates, Smut, Vampire!Lexa, clexahalloweenweek, ranya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-22 00:06:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12469036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamsAreMyWords/pseuds/DreamsAreMyWords
Summary: Lexa is a grumpy vampire, and Clarke's a mischievous fairy who loves getting under her skin. They're forced to become roommates for a month and they expect it's only going to end in killing each other, fucking each other, or both. They certainly don't expect to fall in love.





	1. Interview with a Vampire (and a Fairy)

**Author's Note:**

> Happy ClexaHalloweenWeek, kru! Here's a story about Vampire!Lexa and Fairy!Clarke. This is every bit as ridiculous as it sounds, so hop onto the crazy train and enjoy an insane fic about a grumpy, candle-hoarding vampire with very sensitive fangs and an optimistic fairy with wings that change color according to her moods who are forced to become roommates for a month and get under each other's skin- and bed sheets.
> 
> This fic is 85% humor/comedy, 5% angst because Lexa's a dramatic ho with issues and Clarke's a pushy brat with issues, and 10% smut. Not a whole lot of plot, just Clexa fighting each other and fighting their sexual attraction and fighting their own feelings. Every chapter has a quote, the story itself, and a small interview segment that takes place in the future. Enjoy!

 

 

> _**Clarke:** _
> 
> _You're fangtastic!_
> 
> _**Lexa:** _
> 
> _How many times do I have to tell you? Your vampire jokes are not funny!_

 

* * *

 

     

 

 

/＼ ^._.^ ／\

 

The first time she saw her, the rest of the world fell away. The bar was rowdy and crowded tonight; perfect to slip away unnoticed. Lexa sat in her usual stool at the corner, the optimal position to observe the rest of the bar. Nothing of interest had happened so far in the three quarters of an hour she’d been here, nursing a single glass of whiskey. Nothing until the scent drifted over to her and she was lifting her head, nose to the air, before she could even think about it, head turning toward the direction it had came from. The rest of the bar faded into a blur, dull and gray and inconsequential, her vision narrowing onto one person as her gaze fell on a girl with golden hair.

She smelled absolutely divine.

That was Lexa’s first thought, as the scent of the blonde sitting at the end of the bar washed over her. Something flowery and not at all subtle, hitting her with as much subtlety as the stormy sea crashed the shore.

Her next thought was not quite as innocent. The woman was beautiful. Loose curls of blonde hair tipped a vivid pink framed a pretty face. Gorgeous curves hugged by a blue dress, cleavage spilling out, exposing the fullness of her breasts with every laugh, and oh, the woman was laughing, pink-slicked mouth stretched in a wide grin as she giggled at the inane suggestion the meathead next to her muttered in her ear. Her eyes were most captivating. A bright, clear blue. Lexa felt the shift inside her when she met them; when the girl happened to glance over the rim of her martini as she brought it to her lips. Lexa froze, mouth dry, and the girl’s eyes seemed to sparkle at the reaction, something mischievous in their depths. Lexa realized her mouth was open slightly and she snapped it shut.

Her third thought: this woman, whoever she was, looked good enough to eat.

An understatement, really.

That settled it, then. Lexa downed the rest of her whiskey, only a faint twitch of her mouth hiding her grimace at the bitterness, and pushed her stool from the bar. She dropped more than enough cash to cover it on the counter and made sure to take her time, stretching out. She glanced over at the beautiful stranger, noted with satisfaction the girl’s eyes had lingered at the flash of skin above her waist, and waited for blue eyes to flick up before Lexa tilted her head. Usually they looked away at this point; usually, this played out like a game of cat and mouse. Not tonight. The blonde looked right back at her, blatantly ignoring the two men on either side of her who were still speaking to her, and stared at Lexa with a small smirk toying at her lips. She licked them a moment later, and Lexa’s stomach gave another pleasant lurch.

The girl tilted her head much the same way Lexa had; it took her a second to realize she was subtly gesturing toward the door. Lexa gave one short nod, pulled on her jacket, and began weaving her way through the crowd of drunken fools who formed a clumsy makeshift dance floor in the center of the bar. She didn’t have to look back to know the girl was following her; she heard her murmuring a cheerful apology to the men at her table before ignoring their protests and following Lexa.

The silence of the cool night greeted her as she stepped out the side door into the deserted alleyway, holding it cracked open. Warm fingers brushed against hers as the blonde pushed the door open again and slipped out to stand beside her. They were quiet for a moment, simply quietly studying one another, Lexa not having to play up the easy smile on her face for once; the girl really was gorgeous, the perfume of her scent up close dizzying her. She’d certainly been lucky tonight. She didn’t think she’d ever met anyone quite so mouthwatering.

“Hello,” said the girl, still smiling that strange little smile as though she knew something Lexa didn’t. She stuck her hand out. “I’m Clarke.”

“Alexandria,” said Lexa. She always used her full name with strangers. Tonight was no exception, even if Clarke was the most gorgeous woman she’d ever met. She shook her hand and Clarke raised a brow.

“Cold?” she asked, still smiling as she gestured at their clasped hands.

Lexa let go and smoothly tucked her hands into her coat pocket. “I always am.”

The girl nodded, blue eyes traveling up and down the length of Lexa in a way that almost made her feel warm. The tip of a tongue darted out to wet pink lips and the feeling intensified. “Maybe I can warm you up, then. Do you have a place nearby?”

Lexa inclined her head. “It’s not far from here. Follow me.”

She turned, fully anticipating Clarke to just wordlessly follow her—she had not expected a hand to shoot out and close around her wrist, nor had she anticipated she’d let the girl push her up against the wall, but here they were.

“First, I want to do what I’ve been thinking about since I laid eyes on you,” said Clarke, pupils wide and dark, licking her lips again; Lexa’s gaze tracked the movement. Clarke pressed up close to her, full breasts pushing against Lexa’s, and Lexa took a sharp intake of breath—something she had not done in so long.

She didn’t usually let it come to this. The girl’s hands were smoothing the collar of her jacket, slipping up to cup the back of Lexa’s neck. Hazy blue eyes drifted shut, lashes fluttering, as she brought their faces together. Lexa didn’t resist, didn’t want to. She closed her eyes and tipped her head down, and let the sensation wash over her as warm lips brushed against her own once, twice, before a tongue ventured out and the kiss was abruptly pulled into something deeper, darker, that had fingers twisting in the locks of her hair and greedily pull her even closer.

_Fuck._

The hunger stirring in the pit of her stomach was not the usual singular one, the one that had her fangs descending in anticipation of the burst of wet warmth of blood into her mouth, for the trickle down her throat, coating her tongue—God, she wanted it now, more than anything, but the strange thing was…that wasn’t all.

She wanted to take this girl home. Wanted to peel her clothes off one by one, to watch the way the candlelight flickered over sun kissed skin, to feel the heavy warmth of those breasts in her hands, to seek out another kind of wet heat with her mouth. Wanted to see this girl gasping for breath beneath her, to see the curling of her toes and the curling of her lips in a satisfied smile. Wanted to watch her come, to listen to her beg for more.

She wanted this girl almost as much as she wanted her blood.

It had been so long since she’d felt this way and that, more than anything, was what she blamed for what happened next. It was the combined effects of Clarke and of shock that had her losing grip on her control so easily. That, and the fact that Clarke’s hand had somehow managed to slip down her pants and cup her, one finger dipping into the proof of her wild thoughts.

Her fangs descended.

The growl in the back of her throat rumbled against Clarke’s neck; the girl didn’t seem to notice, really, just humming in approval and pressing even closer. It was a shame, really, that this was happening so soon, and right here in this dirty alleyway, but it looked as though Lexa had no other choice now. It was probably better this way, anyway.

The bloodlust boiling in her stomach was too much to bear, her eyes flashing red. She licked a strip up Clarke’s throat, unable to so much as hear her gasp and moan, hunger buzzing in her ears. Just one thing left to do.

She always let them see her first. Let them see her fangs, her eyes. Their fear made the blood taste sweeter.

She reared back, prepared to strike, and Clarke looked up, still smiling as she blinked dazedly at Lexa, and Lexa—Lexa hesitated.

That was all it took. In the space of a second, blue eyes went wide, pink lips formed an ‘ _o’_ of surprise—

And then wings burst out of the girl’s back.

 

/＼ ^._.^ ／\

 

 

**Interviewer:**

Hello and welcome to Polis Radio! So, now, one of you is a vampire, and one of you is a Fairy?

 

**Lexa:**

Yes. Hello. My name is Lexa Woods, and I am the vampire—

 

**Clarke:**

And my name's Clarke, and I’m the fairy. As if you couldn’t already tell.

 

**Interviewer:**

Yes, the wings were kind of a giveaway. So, I've been led to believe you two are the first of your kind to, for lack of a better word, shack up. How did you meet?

 

**Lexa:**

She was hounding a bar for a one-night stand.

 

**Clarke:**

I was not!

 

**Interviewer:**

Oh...uh, well…

 

**Clarke:**

I really wasn't. Look, I was here on a mission.

 

**Interviewer:**

A mission?

 

**Clarke:**

Yes. See, back home, my mother is on the Fey Council and getting remarried to Kane, the Fey Chancellor. Long story short, every fairy is given a quest to complete in order to hold their royal standing, and now that I'm going to be royal by marriage, I have to complete one. Mine was to retrieve the Flame.

 

**Interviewer:**

What's that?

 

**Clarke:**

The Flame is a special flower that’s extremely rare. It’s also known as a blood rose. It grows in the Sahari Desert. It has the power to make fairy wings grow back.

 

**Interviewer:**

The power to make fairy wings grow back? They can—

 

**Clarke:**

Be destroyed, yes. Normally only if the fairy has committed a severe act of cowardice. If our moral values fail us, our wings fail us.

 

**Interviewer:**

Wow. Have you ever lost your wings?

 

**Lexa:**

Her wings are sticking four feet over her back right now. Does it look like it?

 

**Interviewer:**

Uh...well, no...

 

**Clarke:**

Lexa! Don't be rude.

 

**Lexa:**

Sorry, _niron._

                        

**Clarke:**

It's okay.

**Interviewer:**

Um. Sorry to be frank, but—how did you two end up together?

 

**Clarke:**

Ha....it's a long story, actually....

 

**Lexa:**

Quite entertaining, though. We hated each other first, you see. When we were forced to live together, that didn't help matters.

 

**Interviewer:**

Why did you not...you know...bite her?

 

**Lexa:**

She blackmailed me.

 

**Interviewer:**

She _blackmailed_ you?

 

**Lexa:**

Yes. When she came into the bar looking for a one-night stand—

 

**Clarke:**

I was not...

 

**Lexa:**

Clarke, your flower was not in a cheap bar. Why would you be coming into a bar late at night, talking to every mildly attractive person you see?

 

**Clarke:**

Okay, so I was horny. Big deal. No shame in it.

 

**Lexa:**

Exactly. So she came in looking for a one-night stand. We've established that.

 

**Interviewer:**

Yes.

 

**Clarke:**

Whatever.

 

**Lexa:**

Anyway. She came in looking for the most attractive person in the bar she could find. Meanwhile, I was also at the bar, looking for my next meal. This is where the blackmailing comes in. The Coalition has made it law that vampires are no longer allowed to feed on humans. We are to either buy from the blood bank, or feed on animals. A vampire of my stature would never lower themselves to surviving off animal blood.

 

**Clarke:**

Ha.

 

**Lexa**

What?

 

**Clarke:**

Nothing.

 

**Lexa:**

No, what?

 

**Clarke:**

I told you, it's nothing.

 

**Lexa:**

You snorting and snickering under your breath is not nothing. Spit it out.

 

**Clarke:**

You just talk pretty highly of yourself, don't you?

 

**Lexa:**

I'm telling the truth.

 

**Clarke:**

Mmm-hmm.

 

**Lexa:**

Clarke, you—

 

**Clarke:**

Shh.

 

**Lexa:**

You can't do that.

 

**Clarke:**

I can too.

 

**Lexa:**

You cannot. Kissing me to shut me up before I can yell at you is cheating.

 

**Clarke:**

You like it, don't you?

 

**Lexa:**

That's beside the point—

 

**Clarke:**

Then calm down. Go on with your story and I'll make it up to you tonight.

 

**Lexa:**

As I was saying, Mr. Interviewer...

 

**Clarke:**

Haha...

 

**Lexa:**

Don't be so smug.

 

**Clarke:**

Shhh. Go on.

 

**Lexa:**

Okay. So, I ran out of my stock supply of blood from the bank, which meant I needed to feed the old fashioned way. I don’t usually kill them, I just snack on the most intoxicated human I can find and even if they do remember something the next day, they’ll think they imagined it. Well, I wasn't aware that Clarke was a fairy. Because I had a cold.

  
**Interviewer:**

You...had a cold.

 

**Lexa:**

Yes. Despite being essentially immortal with no need for food, water, or even oxygen, no one, human or supernatural, is immune to a cold.

 

 **Interviewer:**  
O...kay.

 

**Lexa:**

Vampires have a very astute sense of smell, so I didn't recognize Clarke for what she was until it was too late, and she was unaware that I was a vampire. So she came to me hoping for me to take her home for one reason, and I spoke back to Clarke hoping to take her home for an entirely different reason. So we're in the alley outside the bar when she leans in—I thought, a kiss, harmless, and we were right beside my house so I decided to just bite her then. Because I knew if I took her inside, I would accidentally kill her.

 

**Interviewer:**

Accidentally?

 

**Lexa:**

Sex is as intimate as drinking blood for vampires, as when sexually excited, biting tends to occur. Vampires and other supernatural creatures have more strength so it’s not as dangerous, but for a vampire to sleep with a human…

 

**Clarke:**

They end up taking their bite and blood play kink a little too far. Vampires like it rough, let’s put it that way.

 

**Lexa:**

Hush. So, I went to bite Clarke's neck, and being a fairy, her reflexes were much faster than a human's, and she was able to pull back, and she saw my fangs. Naturally she was distressed, and her wings burst out of her back. I realized she was a fairy, which was not a good thing.

 

**Interviewer:**

Why's that?

 

**Lexa:**

Annoying creatures, fairies.

 

**Clarke:**

Hey! Just to vampires. Other creatures love me. We tend to get along very well with elves and nymphs, actually.

 

**Lexa:**

So I planned to stay home for a few days to give her time to leave, which I assumed she would do, after nearly dying at the hands of a vampire.

 

**Clarke:**

But I came back.

 

**Interviewer:**

Why on Earth would you go back?

 

**Lexa:**

To blackmail me. Apparently the Flame she so desperately needed had been taken from the desert and was brought somewhere in a flower shop in New York, and she needed my nose to help her find it. So she blackmailed me. Told me that if I didn't help her, she would turn me into the Vampire Council for both intent to attack and drain a human, and for intent to attack and drain a Fairy.

 

**Interviewer:**

Wow...that's pretty clever of you.

 

**Clarke:**

I know, right?

 

**Lexa:**

Ahem. Anyway. I was going to refuse, but the Coalition caught wind of it and called me in and told me I had to go along with it to keep an eye on her, and to intervene when we found the Flame because the Coalition wanted it. I had no other choice, so I agreed to help her find the flower, and she lived with me (again, she blackmailed me into it) and annoyed the living hell out of me for over a month.

 

**Clarke:**

Yeah, we got along pretty well.

 

**Lexa:**

Oh, yes. Very well.

 

**Clarke:**

Yeah, we never fought—

 

**Lexa:**

Never argued—

 

**Clarke:**

Definitely never insulted each other—

 

**Lexa:**

Nor did we try our hardest to fight the possibility that we were attracted to each other.

 

**Clarke:**

Yep, we were just completely civilized to each other...

 

**Lexa:**

Completely civilized.

 

**Interviewer:**

Yes....okay.....well.....Now, onto the next segment.

 

/＼ ^._.^ ／\

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Link to ClexaHalloweenWeek Guidelines](https://clexaweek2018.tumblr.com/guidelines)

 


	2. fucking fairies

 

 

> _**Clarke:** _
> 
> _Well you suck!  Haha get it, because you're a vampire, and you suck blood..._
> 
> _**Lexa:** _
> 
> _Shoot me. Shoot me now._
> 
> _**Clarke:** _ _  
> _
> 
> _Why? You’re bullet-proof and immortal. It wouldn't do anything._
> 
> _**Lexa:** _
> 
> _It was a figure of speech!_

* * *

 

It was ironic, thought Lexa with a snarl, that if you were to ask a human what was the most frightening creature, most of them would answer _vampire._ Not a single one would even think a fairy to be in that same realm. To humans, fairies were lovable—small creatures with bell shoes and glittering dust. Tinker Bells.

They were wrong.

In reality, Lexa knew it was quite the opposite. She was a vampire, after all, and she was perfectly respectable. When humans thought of her kind, it was frightening exaggerated images, graphic movies of immortal beings with piercing fangs ripping humans apart like cattle. Which, okay, was not far off with some of her kind—but the majority weren’t like that. The majority were just like Lexa, and her days were filled with a mundanity no human could scarcely imagine for a supernatural creature.

Every night, she woke early, the moment the sunset, to go for a run. She didn’t need it, and she always had to remind herself to feign panting breaths if she was in proximity to a human, but it was habit from her own human days so many years ago. It cleared her head. She found herself running three or four miles at least before rounding back to her home, a large loft at the top of the old Polis tower she’d bought half a century ago. She microwaved herself a cup of blood for breakfast and read the paper before getting dressed and heading to Polis Incorporated, nodding a formal hello to her receptionist Indra before sweeping into her office, where Anya waited with the latest reports. It was business as usual, every day, and if Lexa was being honest, it was quite dull. Certainly not what any humans would expect.

Meanwhile, _fairies_ —Lexa grit her teeth just thinking about them—were not exactly the pixies humans made them out to be. This one, for example—she narrowed her eyes, watching critically as the blonde huffed and puffed, face a bit red with exertion, dragging an enormous box Lexa could have easily held aloft with one hand into the living room—this one happened to be the most infuriating, annoying creature on the planet.

“Well you could have already been asleep if you’d shrink down your fat swollen arrogant head and just helped me carry this in.”

Lexa scowled. “No one forced you to bring those in right now. You could have waited until night fell, then I could have retrieved them with you. I’m not rewarding your stupidity by giving you want I want.” She regretted the words as soon as they left her lips, knowing exactly how Clarke would twist them.

Sure enough, Clarke looked up at her from beneath her lashes, still panting, and her mouth curled in a smug, taunting little smile. “Oh, but I think you’d feel so much better if you just _give me what I want,_ Lexa. Give me what _you want_ too, even if you won’t admit it.”

“You see what you want to see,” said Lexa dismissively, idly taking a sip out of her teacup. She was grateful she had because a moment later she was gulping, as Clarke bent over the box even lower, ass in the air, and slanted a heated gaze at Lexa once more. Her wings fluttered, a mixture of black and red today.

The wings were perhaps the only redeeming quality of fairies. Lexa could grudgingly admit they were fascinating. Clarke sometimes used them in the same way a cat used their tail; they spread and curved when she used them for balance, they often twitched to reflect her annoyance, and the fact that they inexplicably changed color so often was intriguing.

But that was it. It wasn't even that redeeming, because the annoyance that was everything else about Clarke Griffin was far more dominating. Sure, she was attractive—Lexa wasn’t blind. A curvy body with sunkissed skin, blue eyes always bright with mischief, lips often pulled in a wide grin, and golden hair cut fairly short, red and pink mixed in at the tips. But she also spent every waking moment of her life—for the past week since she’d moved in, anyway—doing her utmost best to piss Lexa off. It was apparently how she sought her entertainment. Well, that and sleeping with the entire population of New York. Vampires enjoyed blood. Fairies enjoyed pleasure. She supposed it was one more thing that would sway humans into a false sense of security.

“I see what _you_ want,” sassed Clarke, and Lexa deadpanned her because the little wriggle of her ass in the air and the flutter of her wings she gave under the guise of dragging the box a couple feet over was entirely unnecessary. “You really think you’re going to be able to last an entire month with me without snapping?”

“Snapping your neck?” said Lexa lightly, watching Clarke coolly over the rim of her cup as she brought it to her lips again, warm blood flooding her mouth. “I suppose we’ll find out.”

“Mmm, I like to be choked,” said Clarke, and Lexa actually did choke, coughing and using the back of her hand to wipe the escaped blood from the corner of her lip. Clarke smirked, waiting until Lexa set her cup down and looked up to glare at her before she added, “Prolongs the orgasm, you know? You want to watch? I can give you an example.”

The sight of the life being choked out of her was a tempting offer—almost as tempting as the other one, the real offer, though Lexa would sooner die than admit that. Unbidden in her mind the images came anyway, a writhing Clarke in her bed, blue eyes glazed with lust, Lexa’s hand closing around her neck and guiding her through pleasure—

_No, no, no._

This was exactly why fairies were so dangerous. They always knew exactly how to get under your skin.

It didn’t help she was the first roommate she’d had in four hundred years. Not that Lexa had agreed to this. She scowled as she remembered the day two weeks ago that she’d stood before the council, biting her tongue to keep from snarling her protests as Titus and the other members of the council told her to allow the fairy into her home, to watch her closely over the next month and a half, and to make her move once she found what she was looking for. There wasn’t much Lexa could say after that.

The blonde, thinking she’d successfully blackmailed Lexa into letting her stay, clueless as to the fact that Lexa was actually being forced to by the Coalition itself, was insufferably smug about it to this day. Lexa just wondered how long this was going to last before she failed, killed the fairy and ran for it, the Coalition bearing down upon her.

No, she had to behave. Her people were counting on her.

But she certainly didn’t have to like it.

She pushed her chair back from the table and stood up, gazing coldly at Clarke, who just smirked. “If you don’t have those flowers sorted in an hour, I’m going to burn them,” Lexa told her, hating the way Clarke just rolled her eyes, entirely unaffected by her. Majority of the world was terrified of her and of course she had to be stuck with the one person who wasn’t. “I am returning to bed. Do not disturb me.”

“You don’t even sleep,” said Clarke with a roll of her eyes, then paused, looking curiously at Lexa. “What do you do in there, actually? Do you have a coffin, or—“

“None of your business.”

Clarke sneered as Lexa walked past her. “You just stand in the coffin and finger yourself all night, don’t you?”

Lexa paused in the doorway, seconds away from spinning around and attacking Clarke with tooth and claw. She closed her eyes, struggling to contain her rage. She walked on, ignoring Clarke entirely. She grit her teeth when Clarke’s laughter followed her out. _Fucking fairies._

 

/＼ ^._.^ ／\

**Interviewer:**

When did you two start to realize that you had more than friendly feelings for each other?

**Lexa:**

When we realized that we were being unnecessarily unfriendly to each other.

**Clarke:**

Yeah. The whole love springs from hate thing.

**Interviewer:**

So this was definitely a love-hate relationship?

**Clarke:**

Oh yeah. For sure.

**Lexa:**

Most certainly.

**Clarke:**

You talk like such a priss.

**Lexa:**

Don't be a hag in front of the interviewer, darling.

**Clarke:**

Sorry. She’s usually much more well-behaved at home.

**Interviewer:**

Uh...it's okay.

**Lexa:**

To answer your question, Mr. Interviewer, yes, it was. Our relationship would have made quite the motion picture, actually.

**Clarke:**

It really would have. The violent arguments, the passionate makeout scenes—

**Lexa:**

We did have some very passionate makeout scenes.

**Clarke:**

Yes. Yes we did.

**Interviewer:**

And did you find the relationship…strained, for lack of a better word, at times, due to the nature of your…selves?

**Clarke:**

You know, you would think that her mouth and tongue would taste like blood, but it doesn't. I can't really describe the taste. It's good, though. Kinda cool. Like, minty...without the mint.

**Lexa:**

She tastes like the scent of flowers.

**Interviewer:**

She tastes like the _smell_ of flowers?

**Lexa:**

Yes. You would have to be a vampire to understand.

**Interviewer:**

Oh....kay.....?

/＼ ^._.^ ／\


	3. Cat and Mouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely comments! :D You guys are so awesome. ClexaHalloweenWeek is so fun!

 

 

> _**Lexa:** _
> 
> _I want a grey goose martini._
> 
> _**Clarke:** _
> 
> _Sure you don't want a bloody mary?_
> 
> _**Lexa:** _
> 
> _How many times do I have to tell you you're not funny?_
> 
> _**Clarke:** _
> 
> _Then why are you smiling?_
> 
> _**Lexa:** _
> 
> _Because you're wearing a sheer white shirt with no bra._
> 
> _**Clarke:** _
> 
> _What! I didn't notice—why would you wait until we're at the club to tell me this?_
> 
> _**Lexa:** _
> 
> _Well, you have such a wonderful sense of humor I thought you'd find it amusing._
> 
> _**Clarke:** _
> 
> _I thought mockery wasn’t the product of a strong mind?_
> 
> _**Lexa:** _
> 
> _Perhaps not, but it is a way to irritate the bloody hell out of you as my form of sick revenge._

* * *

 

 

Clarke gathered her clothes up in her hands, walked out of the stranger's room. Tenth time in a week, she thought cheerily. She was just sweeping through the population of New York, wasn't she?

Except for one, she remembered, lips twisting sourly. That damn vampire she lived with was determined to pretend there was nothing there, no matter how many times Clarke "accidentally" forgot to lock the bathroom door when she was bathing. Oh well. She didn't need her anyway. Lexa was a bloodsucker, after all. Clarke was a _fairy._ She could do better than a tick.

When she entered the apartment and spotted Lexa sitting at the kitchen bar reading the paper, her heart kickstarted in her chest. How embarrassing.

"Just getting in from another night of mundane, meaningless sex?" asked Lexa as she idly turned the page of the newspaper.

"Definitely not mundane,” said Clarke delicately as she glided across the kitchen to retrieve a bowl of cereal. "He was very good at what he was doing, actually."

"Really." Lexa idly turned the page again. "What was his name? Did he know _your_ name? Did he even bother to ask, or were you not that memorable?"

That wiped the smile off Clarke's face. "Go to hell."

"Been there, done that," said Lexa loftily.

"So you’re a bullshitter _and_ a stereotype.”

“Possibly so, but at least I’m not subjecting myself to mediocre sex.”

Clarke poured the Count Chocula into a small blue bowl. "As if you're any better. The only lover you're on a first-name basis with is your right hand."

“Keep telling yourself that, if that’s what helps you sleep at night.”

Lexa was so difficult to ruffle sometimes. Fortunately, Clarke knew one surefire way to always get under her skin. “It’s probably what helps Costia sleep at night.”

Lexa slammed down the paper, jaw set and gaze murderous. "You are _completely_ out of line."

"You wish I was completely out of line."

"Oh, grow up, Clarke."

"You," she said irritably. "You're a thousand year old child."

"You could say the same."

"Yeah, only I don't look my age."

Lexa hissed.

"Funny, that’s kind of the noise your mom made in my bed last night.” A smug smile spread across her face at the shocked expression on Lexa’s face. She'd learned that insult from the human she'd been with last night, and his friends.

“My mother has been dead for nearly seven hundred and twenty three years,” said Lexa coolly.

“How old does that make you, exactly? I wasn’t lying when I said you look your age.”

"At least my mother didn't choose her job over me," Lexa said vehemently; she knew that was a sore subject and would strike a nerve.

She flared up at once. "At least my mother's not from the 1200s!"

"At least my mother knew what she was doing when she raised her child!"

"Oh, yeah, I can see that by how you bite and suck the life out of every human you walk past!"

"I do not,” she said coldly. "I choose carefully—unlike you, who…buys any flower she sees in a shop!"

"Better than you!"

 _"Shof op_ ," she snapped. "Just because you’re a tree hugger—"

"—just because you’re a leech disguised as a human—"

"—doesn’t mean you have the right to criticize me!” they both finished at the exact same time.

An awkward silence pressed between them, and each looked away quickly in shame. Not even three weeks together and all they did was this: argue. Argue, and look at each other the way they were right now, sneaking furtive glances filled with far too much heat than a little anger required. Everything about Lexa drove her crazy. How Lexa’s green eyes seemed to glow over deep shadows under her eyes, her pale skin, her long, lithe figure hidden within her black cloak…she was a fucking stereotype all right.

Clarke swallowed, wings fluttering as she reigned in her temper. To be honest, fighting with Lexa was kind of the highlight of her day. Still, the Costia line had been a low blow.

Clarke was the first to step forward. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t presume you—"

Lexa cleared her throat, shaking her head. "No, let me apologize first. I sh—"

Clarke’s brow immediately drew together. "Why do you get to apologize first?

Lexa narrowed her eyes. "I’m older."

Blue eyes narrowed in turn. "You are not. I’ve been alive for hundreds of mortal years."

Lexa stared down her nose at her. "As have I."

"Well I’m more experienced in this area." Clarke folded her arms stubbornly.

Lexa laughed so suddenly it was more like a bark. "Hah. _You_ more experienced than _I_? Only in your dreams."

"And you would know what’s in my dreams," she shot at her. "You psycho vampire stalker." Clarke was sure that, had there been any blood in Lexa’s cheeks, she would have blushed.

"I didn’t mean to do that," she said heatedly. "How many times will you make me pay for it?"

Clarke gave her a satisfied, almost feline smirk. "As much as possible."

Lexa’s expression hardened. "I’ll get you. I’ll find a way to get you back."

"Sure you will." But as she turned to go, suddenly a hand hard as metal gripped just above her elbow, and Clarke fought to suppress her smile. She knew she should be scared, but how could she? She’d spent the last fortnight learning tiny snippets that slowly began to piece together who this mysterious vampire was. She didn’t understand how this fearsome woman, this woman with the intense gaze and power etched into every line of her body, from the sharp jut of her jaw to the controlled way she tended to keep her hands clasped behind her back, was also the same woman who curled up with a book before the fire, a raccoon-decorated blanket draped over her folded legs, was the woman who had, on the first accidental time Clarke had left the door unlocked and took a luxurious bubble bath and Lexa walked in on her, somehow to distracted by her own thoughts to pay attention to the sound of the water sloshing, and she’d been amused to see this intimidating vampire actually squeak and spin around so fast she’d nearly walked into the door frame. She’d always imagined vampires to be cold and bemused and empty inside, and Lexa was certainly cold and not at all amused with Clarke’s increasingly obnoxious antics, but she wasn’t empty inside. In fact, there was so much emotion thinly veiled behind green eyes that Clarke didn’t know where Lexa began and ended. It was intriguing, to say the least.

“You need to be more careful,” said Lexa in a low voice.

Clarke blinked at her before wrenching her arm free. “What do you—“

“Don’t play the fool, you know exactly what I mean. The Coalition is watching your every move. You are mingling with humans far too much.”

Clarke scoffed. “I’m not mingling with humans, my body parts are. Big difference.”

She loved it when Lexa did this; when she caught glimpses into how she really felt by the tiny micro expressions on her face. Lexa could not blush, but the dip of her throat as she swallowed, the rigidness of her expression, how the skin around her eyes tightened and her jaw clenched, showed a blush nevertheless. “Either way,” she finally said, voice smooth as ever. “The Coalition has deemed humans far too dangerous to—“

Clarke gave a disbelieving laugh. “You know, what’s really funny to me is that you think humans are dangerous, when you’re the ones who prey on them. I don’t see humans draining _you_ dry, do I?”

“We no longer feed on them,” hissed Lexa, “You know they have banned that, you know we must visit the blood bank—“

“Yeah, except you don’t even follow those rules, Lexa, let alone enforce them. You’re the Commander. You think all the other vamps follow the rules that you can’t even stick to?”

“I am Heda,” said Lexa stiffly. “I may do whatever I please.”

“Oh, that’s rich. So not only do you have a God complex, you have a savior one too. You saved everyone so now the rules don’t apply to you, is that it?”

 _“Shof op,_ Clarke,” huffed Lexa, glowering at her, and Clarke had a retort on the tip of her tongue, she really did, except every time Lexa said her name, it _did things_ to her.

She wasn’t sure how many people she could sleep with before she forgot it, the voice drifting back to her at the most inopportune moments so that it was nearly another name tumbling from her lips.

She didn’t have to glance at her wings to see the droplets of red mixing with the black. Lexa noticed, too, deadpanning her.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to annoy you if you would just maintain common sense and follow the rules. I am not usually this difficult to get along with, you know.”

Clarke hated the blush warming her cheeks, preceded by the swirl of peach mixing into the red and black. “Oh, sure you are,” she said, voice sagging with sarcasm. “Tell me Lexa, did you or did you not threaten to kick me out of this tower last week when I accidentally knocked your candles off the table?”

Lexa scowled. Vaguely, Clarke had to wonder if it came down to it, which would Lexa choose: the blood she needed to survive, or candles?

It was not the first time she had wondered this.

“If you weren’t so clumsy and neglectful, I—“

“I have _wings_ ,” Clarke pointed out unnecessarily. “You try walking around with these things!”

Probably not the best way to phrase it, because Lexa had glanced down and—it wasn’t Clarke’s wings she was looking at. Clarke’s wings flushed more peach, but she still smirked. This was like a game of cat and mouse. Eventually, Clarke was going to sink her claws in her.

“You know, I think I know what our problem is,” said Clarke, feigning thoughtfulness; Lexa was already scowling, because they’d been over this before. “I think I know why you’re so grumpy all the time. When’s the last time you were laid, Lexa?”

Lexa’s glared at her. “That’s—

Clarke nodded slowly. “I see. So, a few centuries ago, give or take?”

“None of your business,” snarled Lexa.

“It’s my business when you’re always either looking at me like you can’t decide whether you want to kill me or kiss me,” said Clarke mildly. Lexa swallowed again, a muscle in her jaw jumping.

The truth was she couldn’t get it out of her head. That had been the most intense kiss of her life, and she wouldn’t lie: she was curious, and wanted to experience it again. Wanted to know if it would be more or less intense now that they knew what the other truly was. (It would be more, she already knew).

“Or, I guess to be more specific, whether you want to kill me or fuck me,” she said, watching Lexa closely for her reaction and feeling very pleased at her stony expression. “And if we’re getting even more specific than that, we could discuss the ways you want to kill me, and all the ways you could fuck me. Do you want to fuck me hard, Lexa? Or are you a gentle vampire lover?” She laughed when Lexa’s nose wrinkled, torn between outrage and disbelief and—

“I can tell you what I like, that might give you some direction, huh?” suggested Clarke, fully smirking now. “Three fingers, building up to more. I like to feel the burn of the stretch.”

Lexa was, if it were possible, somehow even paler. She gazed at Clarke with an unreadable expression now, and Clarke vaguely wondered if she really was about to attack her. She didn’t usually go this far when teasing her, yet she couldn’t find it within herself to stop.

“You can eat me out if you want,” she continued casually, oblivious to the way Lexa’s fists clenched, her body stiff. “One great thing about having wings is that it makes riding people’s faces much easier, so if you want—“

That was it. That was the last thing she was able to say, before Lexa lunged forward more quickly than her eyes could follow. One moment she stood before her, with wide, furious eyes and a clenched jaw, and the next she was crashing their lips together.

And oh, God, it was even more intense. Much, much more intense.

Lexa kissed her with the same intensity she brought to everything in life. Their mouths moved furiously, with desperation, tongues tangling and fingers tangling in hair. It wasn’t until the scrape of teeth against Clarke’s bottom lip—fangs, she realized with a jolt a moment later—that reality set in.

In one fluid movement, Lexa stepped back. Her chest rising and falling rapidly, Clarke blew her hair out of her eyes and glanced back over her shoulder. She balked, mortified as she realized her wings had turned a vivid red. She returned her gaze to Lexa, expecting her to be smirking or chuckling, but Lexa was solemn.

"You lied to me,” she said in a soft voice, sharp green eyes on Clarke’s wings as they fluttered. "All the times your wings turned that specific shade…you said it was annoyance." She reached out and her fingers brushed the tips of her wings before she took a step back. "But that’s not what it means, is it?”

Lexa stepped close to her once more, brushed her lips against Clarke’s. She gave a soft chuckle as Clarke leaned forward, lips parting in anticipation. She set her jaw and pulled herself back. Her wings were glimmering three different colors, spots of peach blossoming over the red, interspersed with angry splotches of black.

"I can understand the sentiment,” said Lexa dryly, eyes still on Clarke’s wings. “It’s ironic, isn’t it, that I’m the one who was once actually human, yet you, who have never been, seem far more human than I do. Humans as a whole are predictable, but as individuals, are unpredictable. Your kind—fairies—they are stagnant. Picking flowers and nurturing the vegetation, bringing light to the skies. Individually…you may find one foolish enough to remain in close proximity with a creature of the night, and even be as reckless as to taunt and goad. I know people and how they work. But you, Clarke…" Clarke shivered when Lexa’s cold fingertips caressed the scarlet skin of her cheek. Too bad it wasn’t the temperature that made her shiver. "…are not quite like anything I’ve ever known.” As she went to stroke her other cheek, Clarke lifted her arm and slapped her hand away. Lexa laughed, but dropped her arm. "Tinker Bell, " she added, smirking as Clarke’s wings flushed onyx all but the tips, which remained a stubborn crimson.

Clarke cleared her throat. "What’s another name for mule again? Or a donkey?"

Lexa’s eyebrows quirked in amusement. "Ass?"

She nodded, her jaw set angrily and the tips of her wings finally turning a full black. "Ah. That’s it then. You are an ass. An idiotic, smug, arrogant, full-of-herself _ass!_ "

All Lexa could do was sneer like—indeed—an ass as Clarke stomped away from her. Then Lexa’s arm snaked out. Clarke stomped a foot as Lexa’s hand closed around her wrist. Her hair fanned out as she whipped around, causing Lexa’s eyes to go hazy as she breathed in her scent.

"You listen to me, you oversized flea, I—" Clarke paused, confusion momentarily blocking out the anger. "I thought my blood didn’t appeal to you."

Lexa looked dazed. "Your blood doesn’t appeal to me."

Clarke flushed, though the tips of her wings morphed red and peach again. "Oh."

Lexa shrugged herself out of her reverie. "You have a different scent than any other I know. You smell like flowers. Real ones, not the perfumed sort."

"All Fairy smell like flowers,” said Clarke.

“I’ve met six fairies in my life time. I have never known any that taste like you.” Lexa’s eyes were smoldering as they held Clarke’s. Clarke’s heart thrummed along with her wings, but this time she wouldn’t dare look back and see what color they had turned.

"Taste?" she whispered.

Lexa nodded slowly. "I can taste your scent in the air. It’s…indescribable.”

They both simultaneously took a step forward, their toes almost touching as they held one another’s gaze.

"What do I taste like?"

Lexa swallowed hard. "I told you. I don’t know how to describe it. Maybe…Cosmos Astrosanguineus, and perhaps traces of honeysuckle, and—“

"No. I mean…" She fisted her hands in the scruff of Lexa’s shirt and pulled her face closer to hers. "What do I _taste_ like?" As the last word left her lips, she lowered her mouth onto Lexa’s. And just when Lexa began to kiss her, she shoved her hard enough back that Lexa staggered back.

 _"Never_ kiss me again without my permission," she said shortly, tilting her nose into the air.

She left Lexa sprawled on the floor, gaping at her.

 

/＼ ^._.^ ／\

 

**Interviewer:**

Ms. Griffin, what are the downsides to being with a vampire?

**Clarke:**

Please, call me Clarke.

**Interviewer:**

Clarke, then.

**Clarke:**

Well, let's see. She’s extremely grumpy, probably because she doesn't get enough sleep—which is zero sleep, by the way. She complains when I cook dinner about not liking it—mostly because she doesn't eat food in the first place. She just finds it all hilarious, to drive me crazy. I can't take her anywhere in the daylight because the sun gives her a migraine, and at night she's still so pale people give her funny looks, and when they do that she's tempted to eat them. She's also completely uncooperative to live with when I decorate because she doesn't care for colors. All in all, she's a pain in my ass.

**Lexa:**

Ouch.

**Clarke:**

Shut up, you know I love you.

**Interviewer:**

So, Lexa, now, what are the downsides to being with a Fairy?

**Lexa:**

She's horrendously annoying. She's loud, in your face—I mean just look at her, she’s bursting with color, there’s even pink in her hair!—she's a natural flirt which makes it nearly impossible to win arguments, she _loves_ to argue, and she's extremely manipulative.

**Clarke:**

That was way more mean than what I said.

**Lexa:**

No it wasn't.

**Clarke:**

Yes it was.

**Lexa:**

Fine, I'm sorry.

**Clarke:**

I forgive you, but you’re buying me donuts after this.

**Interviewer:**

Alright then... Clarke, what are the pros of being with a vampire?

**Clarke:**

Oh, God, don't even get me started.

**Interviewer:**

Haha, pretty good, then?

**Clarke:**

Have you ever had great sex, Mr. Interviewer?

**Interviewer:**

Oh...uh....

**Lexa:**

Haha....Clarke, that's so inappropriate...

**Clarke:**

Have you?

**Interviewer:**

Well, yes.

**Clarke:**

Okay, well, your great sex is a vampire and a Fairy's bad sex.

**Interviewer:**

What do you mean by that?

**Lexa:**

Ha.....it's no use explaining it, Clarke, he won't get it....

**Clarke:**

Mr. Interviewer, I cannot even begin to describe the kind of sex I have with Lexa. It would, quite frankly, catch this room on fire. And the brilliance of it is, who would have thought that a vampire and a Fairy could do that?

**Lexa:**

I have to admit, Clarke really isn't exaggerating here. Calling it miraculous would be an understatement....

**Clarke:**

We both probably sound pretty thirsty right now, huh?

**Interviewer:**

Uh…

**Lexa:**

Which human taught you that slang?

**Clarke:**

Raven, of course. But that reminds me....Lexa, I left my drink in the car. Want to go get it with me?

**Lexa:**

Yes.

**Interviewer:**

Oh, wait, oh....and they're gone. Okay, uh....let's take a break until the next segment...

 

/＼ ^._.^ ／\


	4. Meeting Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eventually I'm going to respond to all the comments, when I have time. I read them all and they make me smile so much. Thank you :D

> _**Clarke:** _
> 
> _I really want a dog. Could we get a dog?_
> 
> _**Lexa:** _
> 
> _No._
> 
> _**Clarke:** _
> 
> _Oh come on. Every vampire needs a good blood hound!_
> 
> _**Lexa:** _
> 
> _How long have you been waiting to make that pun?_
> 
> _**Clarke:** _
> 
> _Last night. I found it on the google._
> 
> _**Lexa:** _
> 
> _...._
> 
> _**Clarke:** _
> 
> _What's the matter? Do my puns make you feel a little batty?_
> 
> _**Lexa:** _
> 
> _Goodbye._

* * *

 

Well. She hadn't anticipated this.

Clarke was propped up against the wall, legs wrapped around Lexa's narrow hips. Their mingled gasps, stifled moans, and grunts were the only sounds breaking the otherwise silent stillness of the apartment. Lexa tasted like a strange blend of mint and copper, the taste of Lexa herself mixed with the blood she'd been chugging like vodka. Clarke was feeling dizzy herself, though it was less to do with anything she'd imbibed and more to do with the fact that Lexa's tongue was in her mouth and her hips were grinding hard up into Clarke's. Clarke was elated and wet and not quite as confused as she should be. She thought back to everything leading up to this.

A month ago, she'd kissed a girl outside a bar who turned out to be not only a vampire, but a very important vampire- the Heda. The founder of the Coalition of Supernatural Creatures, composed of twelve species, all tied together for safety and protection, formed prior to the defeat of the corrupt Queen Nia. A few days after that, Clarke moved into Lexa's apartment at the top of Polis Towers in the middle of New York, after having blackmailed her for help finding the Flame to take back to Arkadia. Three weeks ago, Clarke, searching for the Flame via rumors and leaks that more often led to dead ends, followed her information to an old mountain fortress called Mount Weather and been horrified to discover that, one, the Flame was no longer there, and two, Mount Weather was inhabited by a small group of rogue vampires led by Cage Wallace, who very much enjoyed draining humans dry at leisure. Clarke had left them burning. Two weeks ago, Lexa kissed her again, and they'd been more polite than usual to one another since, the very air thick with tension any time they were in the same room. One week ago, Clarke had tried sleeping with another human, but she couldn't get Lexa out of her mind. Today, both Clarke and Lexa had received fantastic news from Titus, an ancient vampire with high standing on the Coalition Council. For Clarke, she was allowed extra time in New York to find the Flame, which was a relief considering she still had not yet found it and had only originally been allowed a month to do so. For Lexa, TItus revealed they had found a new Nightblood- a child of the night- before any harm had been done.

They had been in such high spirits, they hadn't even bickered today. Clarke drank her favorite apple cider, wings fluttering yellow, Lexa drank blood, and they were so beside themselves with the thrill of something going right it had manifested itself into...this. 

Into Clarke seizing Lexa by the face and pulling her onto her lap. Into Lexa straddling her and kissing her until her head spun. Into them realizing it was going too far, Lexa stumbling back and Clarke shooting to her feet, both mumbling apologies, standing in the kitchen feet away, oddly sobered by the situation, peach infusing with crimson. Into them looking at each other and being unable to tear their gazes away again; into Clarke’s wings urging her forward but Lexa moving so quickly she was merely a blur, so they collided and Lexa slammed her against the wall.

And now here they were…and it was the last thing they should be doing, but they couldn’t stop.

The Coalition didn’t represent fairies; fairies were from far away, they were virtually strangers to this world, and as such, their powers weren’t well known, and no one liked what they didn’t understand. They would be in trouble—beyond trouble, really—if the Coalition caught wind of this. For Lexa, this couldn’t happen mostly because of her own issues. Clarke had discovered the story in bits and pieces during their arguments. Lexa had once loved a human, and the Coalition ensured she never see the human again. Costia had lived a long life, married and had children…but none of that was with Lexa. Now Lexa believed feelings and attachments were a weakness, even if she was a fool because Clarke could see the affection in her eyes whenever she spoke of her longest friend, the vampire Anya, whom Clarke had only glimpsed once or twice during Anya’s brief visits to Lexa; each time, she had not seemed pleased to see Clarke, though there was curiosity in her eyes. 

For Lexa, this was personal. For Clarke, she just wasn’t in the right place for a relationship of any kind, not when she had to focus on finding the Flame and taking it back to her people. She had a mission to do. Fucking Lexa was one thing, but she wasn’t a fool; there were feelings involved now. She liked Lexa. Liked this grumpy vampire who reread Pride and Prejudice every other day, who pursed her lips when she was deep in thought, who always stocked the cupboards with cereal even though she didn’t eat it. She was intriguing and fascinating and Clarke couldn’t get enough of her.

It didn’t feel as much of a problem as it should.

Their vertical wrestling led them to the floor in the hallway, Lexa’s back against the wall and Clarke in her lap. Clarke was damp through her leggings and rubbing herself against the hard plane of Lexa’s stomach, moaning in approval at Lexa’s hands kneading her breasts, and they were wearing far too many clothes and they shouldn’t be doing this but Clarke couldn’t think. Not when Lexa was everywhere, clogging her mind and her senses.

Of course, it was completely typical that a knock would come. Loud, impatient raps on the door that made them break apart gasping for breath, even though Lexa didn’t even need to breathe in the first place.

"We’re not home," rasped Lexa, causing Clarke to let loose a slightly hysterical giggle. She was sat on her lap, so close to her she was sure Lexa could feel her heart thumping against her chest. Their foreheads were pressed together, their eyes closed as they tried to regain their breath.

More knocking.

"Ignore it," breathed Clarke.

But as her lips neared, another knock sounded and Lexa hauled herself to her feet, lifting Clarke up along with her. She smirked as she flicked her wings. "Thought you didn’t want me."

"I don’t,” murmured Clarke against her lips, as her hands snuck up Lexa’s back to tangle in thick, silky locks.

"Good," whispered Lexa, biting Clarke’s bottom lip as gently as she could, "Because I don’t want you either."

More insistent knocking.

“Fuck,” hissed Lexa, drawing back and smoothly setting Clarke on her feet. "Wait here."

Too breathless to properly reply, Clarke merely nodded. As Lexa turned away, Clarke saw that her hands were trembling.

Lexa scowled as she walked to the door. Anyone that could walk away from the flushed Fairy with swollen lips barely standing in her kitchen must be a strong person. Lexa was surprised she could manage it herself. But she knew, if things continued the way they were sure to have, she would lose her self-control and then where would they be? The Coalition gave Lexa one warning already. They didn’t allow second chances. Clarke would be sent away at best. Or she could be hurt.

But then again…what care had Lexa if Clarke was hurt? She stubbornly swallowed the lump that appeared in her throat at such callous thinking. Clarke was just a foolish, twittering little Fairy…

Okay, so Lexa was lying to herself. Even if Clarke was foolish sometimes, she never twittered.

And maybe Lexa did care…entirely too much.

She reached the door just as more knocks arrived. "Patience," she barked as she pulled it open. Her frown deepened in surprise. "Lincoln?”

 

 

Back in the kitchen, Clarke had sat on a barstool and was tapping her fingers on the counter glumly. She immediately straightened when she heard footsteps.

"It’s about time you…" Her voice trailed away as Lexa walked in. With a man.

A very attractive man.

He was tall and broad-shouldered, brown skin rippling with muscles. The dark leather he wore coupled with the shaved head and striking tattoos indicated attempts at intimidation, but they were completely belied by the kind warmth in his eyes. This man was certainly not a vampire. Clarke stared at him.

The man stared back, before glancing incredulously at Lexa and promptly bursting into laughter. Lexa scowled and Clarke merely watched, helplessly confused.

 _“This_ is the rampaging monster you told me about?” the man managed to say, doubled over with his hands on his knees, eyes streaming with mirth. Clarke’s lower lip jutted out in a pout, her brow furrowing as she glanced at Lexa, who was grinding her teeth so hard it was audible. “This—this cute little blonde Fairy?”

“This _cute little blonde Fairy_ killed half of Cage’s men,” Lexa said lowly through her clenched teeth. “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” He just laughed even harder at that.

Clarke, meanwhile, slid back into place on her stool, shooting a lazy smirk Lexa’s way. “I knew you think I’m cute.”

The man positively howled.

“Shof op, both of you,” ordered Lexa, clearly attempting to salvage some dignity. “Lincoln, this is Clarke. Trust her far less than the distance you could throw her,” she said silkily, before lifting her chin at Clarke and inclining her head toward the man. “Clarke, this is Lincoln.”

Clarke sniffed delicately, eying Lincoln carefully. “You aren’t a vampire.”

“No,” conferred Lexa, “He is a werewolf.”

Clarke sat up straighter, perking with interest. Lincoln straightened too, chuckles subsiding as he wiped the tears from his eyes. He swiped his palm against his jeans before extending a hand for Clarke. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” said Clarke politely, hand encased in the almost blistering warmth of Lincoln’s palm. Lincoln was as warm as Lexa was cold, clearly. “I’ve never met a werewolf before.”

Before Lincoln could respond, a girl with a long brunette ponytail walked in, closely trailed by another. The one on the right, shorter and slighter, with a hard jut of a jaw and hair pulled back in braids similar to Lexa, had an unmistakable smell that even Clarke couldn’t miss. Her eyes widened.

“You’re…you’re a human.”

The girl arched a brow, glancing at Clarke then at Lexa, who just looked back with a stony expression.

“This is my mate, Octavia,” said Lincoln. “O, this is Clarke. She’s a Fairy.”

The human gave a cool smile as she shook Clarke’s hands. “This is the one Lexa’s been whining about for the past month?”

Clarke barely had time to throw a smirk Lexa’s way, because the other girl was moving forward now, sharp eyes eagerly drinking Clarke in. She smelled like…an automobile. That was odd. It seemed to contrast with her pretty face, though with the calculating glint in her eyes as though eager to figure Clarke, maybe it wasn’t that far off. "I’ve never met a Fairy before,” said the girl, advancing on Clarke slowly, coffee colored eyes on Clarke’s wings. "I didn’t even know they were a thing, actually. Lexa just told me about them."

“You’re a human too,” said Clarke, lips parting in surprise. The metallic scent had shielded it, slightly, but now that she was closer, she thought perhaps she could smell it…

“Mm,” said the girl unaffectedly, clearly not listening, eyes still traveling the length of Clarke’s wings.

Clarke could not stop the curiosity from coming. "How do you know of Lexa? Being a human.”

The girl smirked slightly as she glanced up at the ceiling; the lights flickered. "Got electrocuted once and now I can control some shit.” She shrugged. “Comes in handy sometimes. Dunno if I still qualify as human, but it’s what I was born as, anyway.”

Clarke was impressed and intrigued. "Oh, I see."

“Raven Reyes, Clarke. Clarke, Raven,” said Lexa, sounding insufferably bored as she ushered them all into seats.

“How do you all know each other?” asked Clarke curiously.

“I’m Lexa’s brother,” said Lincoln cheerily as he reclined into one of the sofa’s, Octavia beside him. Raven spread out on the couch, and Clarke noticed her prosthetic limb at once, though she quickly looked away. Lexa had told her once, weeks ago when they came across a man missing a hand in one of the flower shops, that humans considered it impolite to stare at injuries. Clarke found it fascinating, though. Fairy could regrow limbs and heal from most injuries, but humans could not. Instead, they either learned to live with the loss, or fashioned themselves replacements, such as what Raven had. It was brilliant, in Clarke’s opinion.

Then Lincoln’s statement sunk in, and her eyes widened. Lexa’s _brother?_ But she was centuries old, wasn’t she? Surely she hadn’t been lying? No, she couldn't have been, there were those photographs as proof—but then, surely Lincoln couldn’t be that old as well? Werewolves had lifespans similar to humans, she thought…

“Not literally,” said Lexa shortly, shooting Lincoln a reproachful glance, as though blaming him for deliberately puzzling Clarke.

“Family’s thicker than blood,” said Lincoln wisely. “Her first, Anya, saved my mother’s life and prevented her from suffering the same fate as me. I owe them, and therefore Trikru, my allegiance.”

“Werewolves were once known under a different name. My people called them Reapers,” said Lexa, “They used to use them as ways to enable easier feeding. The wolves would wreak havoc, massacring human villages, and the vampires would swoop in and reap the rewards, feasting on the blood, while the wolves took all the blame.”

“That’s horrible,” frowned Clarke.

“Yeah, but that was back when the vampire Queen Nia was working with the leder of the witch coven Alie and the chief of the wolves Pike,” explained Lincoln, “Before Lexa helped form the Coalition and overthrew them.”

Clarke glanced incredulously at Lexa. She’d read about the Coalition’s formation, of course, and Lexa’s integral role in it, but she didn’t know she’d essentially single-handedly stopped such cruelty from happening, ultimately saving the lives of so many humans in the process. Lexa’s posture was relaxed and her expression indifferent, but she also seemed unable to meet Clarke’s eyes, as though embarrassed by her heroic deeds or perhaps unable to face admiration for them. “What happened to them?”

“Burned at the stake,” said Lincoln cheerily.

“Oh. Nice.”

“Can we discuss what you came here for now?” said Lexa wearily.

“Oh, yeah. O?”

Octavia reached into the sheaths strapped to her back—clearly being human was no testament to her ability to protect herself, though Clarke wasn’t surprised considering Lincoln and Raven both had abilities themselves, Octavia would want to be trained to hold herself. She did not pull a sword out, however, instead brandishing a scroll. They all watched with interest as she unfurled it and flattened the parchment for them to lean in to read what was on it. It was a map of the city. There were several circles and x’s marked on the page.

“So, here are the remaining flower shops,” said Octavia, pointing a finger at the circled buildings, “These are the ones we’ve already tried for you, but no luck there.”

Clarke realized, with a sinking feeling, that Lexa had clearly enlisted the help of others to find the Flame. She must want Clarke out of here even sooner now. Clarke licked her suddenly dry lips, ignoring the unpleasant lurching of her stomach. So Lexa was tired of her. That wasn’t news. She definitely wasn’t upset by it or anything. Who cared what a stupid vampire thought of her anyway?

Even if the vampire was quite possibly the most intriguing person Clarke had ever met. Even if she was a walking paradox, cold and ruthless on the outside, with a soft and gooey center. Even if she did have green eyes Clarke could get lost in, and full plump lips that seemed to haunt her waking dreams—

Anyways. Yeah, Clarke didn’t care, no way.

“You know, there is such a thing as the Google,” Clarke pointed out, puzzled that those who inhabit this place seem to have forgotten.

“These aren’t places you can google,” said Octavia with a touch of impatience.

“They’re supernatural,” said Raven. “Humans can’t get in.”

Oh. Clarke’s eyes widened, alighting on the map once more. This was essential information, then!

“Oh my God, this is going to be so helpful then!” she exclaimed, snatching the map and holding it up to her eyes, half rising to her feet, ready to go now—

“We aren’t going now,” said Lexa with a roll of her eyes, pulling Clarke back down and taking the map from her hands. “We have to be careful about this. If the wrong people find out what we’re after, we could lose our chance of ever finding the Flame.”

“Why?”

“Because of the demand. At best, someone would realize how desperate we are and raise the price impossibly high. At worst, someone would realize they could use it against us.”

“Oh. Right.” Clarke sank down into her stool again, feeling somewhat bummed out, as the humans would say. The sudden elation at having a plan of action had already took a nosedive into exhaustion. Lexa wanted her gone, she remembered, feeling quite miserable. What was one more day to plan and wait so they do it thoroughly, right?

As these thoughts put the damper on Clarke’s mood, Lexa was busy thanking her friends and arguing with them, insisting they take payment even when they waved it off as a favor for friends. In the end, she agreed to come around for dinner at Indra’s, something she apparently hadn’t had time to do in a while; at this, Lincoln, Raven, and Octavia all shared similar smirks as they looked pointedly at Clarke, who tried to smile back and merely ended up with a grimace.

“Hey, your wings changed color!” said Raven.

“Wha—oh.” Clarke glanced over her shoulder to see them. “Yeah, they do that.”

“Whoa.”

“Raven loves figuring out how things work,” explained Lincoln. “She’s a mechanic and an engineer.”

“What makes them change colors?” asked Raven.

“Depends on how I’m feeling,” said Clarke with a half-hearted shrug.

Sighing, Lexa slid into the stool beside Clarke. Clarke took a sharp intake of breath when Lexa rubbed a finger along her wings. They were now a gloomy shade of gray. As she rubbed them, however, droplets of red swirled in. Lexa chuckled under her breath and Clarke’s eyes shot daggers at her.

“They’re also very receptive to touch,” she said tightly, ignoring the flip of her belly.

Raven’s brows raised, watching the handful of droplets of red patter down the wings like rain. “Like… _receptive,_ receptive?” She had extended a hand before she realized what she was doing; she paused, looking expectantly at Clarke, who nodded. Lexa knew she could touch, Raven did not. Clarke appreciated the gesture.

At Raven’s touch, another couple drops of red joined the others, though not half as many as what Lexa caused. Understandable. Raven was gorgeous, but there had always been something about Lexa that let her get under her skin. Still, they fluttered, and Clarke worked to steady her breathing.

“Is it—not to be vulgar, but is it as sensitive as…er, other erogenous areas?” When Clarke merely blinked at her, Raven chuckled awkwardly and said, “Like…neck? Nipples? …Clit?”

“Raven,” said Lexa sternly, casting a worried glance at Clarke.

To Clarke’s credit, only a few splotches of peach formed on her wings; Raven smiled. “Definitely more than neck, and probably nipples too. Not quite as sensitive as the clitoris, but, in the heat of the moment…”

Raven nodded knowingly, and silence bloomed between them all in the room until Lexa cleared her throat and shot to her feet.

“It’s late,” she clipped out, hands clasped behind her back, “Perhaps we should be getting to sleep.”

“Yeah, go back to your cold coffin when you have somebody here that might actually be willing to warm you up,” teased Raven, clasping Lexa’s arm in farewell and shooting a grin at Clarke, who returned it. She liked this human girl, very much so. A second later Raven winced, presumably because Lexa had squeezed her arm just a little too tightly.

“Ouch. See you, Clarke.”

“Bye.”

“It was nice to meet you,” said Lincoln, echoed by an informal nod from Octavia. Clarke returned that too, and waved as the three of them were ushered out the door. The click as it shut echoed through the room. Clarke struggled to hide her smile and quietly tiptoed the few steps forward to see Lexa, stiff-backed, her forehead and palms pressed to the back of the door.

Lexa turned to study her, and Clarke found her mouth dry and had no idea what to say. She cast around for something and glanced around the apartment.

“You know, uh, I forgot to tell you, I really like what you’ve done with the place.” Lexa’s only reaction was to arch a brow and Clarke cringed, peach staining her wings. “I mean. You know, how you redecorated it a few days ago, bought new furniture. This seems more…you."

"What do you mean?"

Clarke hesitated. "Well, the style of things…it just seems…you."

Lexa arched a brow. "And you know me?"

Peach flooded her wings the same time pink patches appeared on her cheeks. "I think so. And while we’re on the subject…didn’t you tell me to wait for you? Well...I’m here."

Lexa immediately looked guarded. "No I was merely caught up in the moment."

"Uh huh…" As Clarke advanced on her, Lexa took a step back. "Well I happen to think…maybe we can start where we left off?" But when she embraced her Lexa slipped out and was suddenly standing on the staircase to her room.

"I’m going to retire to bed now, Clarke…I suggest you do the same." She left her alone as darkness began to settle.

 

/＼ ^._.^ ／\

 

**Interviewer:**

Welcome back.....an hour later........

**Clarke:**

Sorry. Spilled my drink.

**Lexa:**

Yes, it was a mess. Very wet. We had to clean it up, of course.

**Interviewer:**

Ahem. Yes. Well. We'll get back to this particular part of the segment later.... as for now, Clarke, tell me things about your wings.

**Clarke:**

Well, they change colors according to my mood, like the emotions I'm currently feeling. Right now they're fading from red, to pink, to a light blue. Blue means I’m feeling pretty content, peaceful.

**Interviewer:**

So earlier when when you were speaking, your wings were turning red. What does that…oh.

**Clarke:**

Red, yeah. I was getting turned on.

**Lexa:**

It's really nice, actually. Let’s me know when I’m doing something right, if you know what I mean.

**Clarke:**

When do you ever do wrong?

**Lexa:**

Good point. Seven hundred years of experience does help, I suppose.

**Interviewer:**

Wow. I mean, ahem, so, uh....What other colors do they turn?

**Clarke:**

When I'm feeling down, they look kind of like a rainy day, all greyish. When I'm angry they turn black, but they'll turn black when I'm not angry too; when I'm feeling powerful and confident, for example, but sometimes it'll be purple too. When I'm embarrassed they turn a light orangish, kind of like a peach color. When I'm extremely happy, they range from light blue to a yellow, depending.

**Interviewer:**

I notice they never seem to be just white. Why’s that?

**Clarke:**

Oh, they do flash white. But that's only during...you know. Like, the red flashes into a white, then fades back to red…

**Lexa:**

It's quite brilliant.

**Interviewer:**

What about yellow?

**Clarke:**

Oh, if I'm excited they go yellow.

**Interviewer:**

It doesn't get annoying, that people can read your emotions at all times?

**Clarke:**

No, not really. I've always been a fairly open person, though.

**Lexa:**

Too open.

**Clarke:**

I've been told it's a very appealing, charming quality of mine.

**Lexa:**

Who told you that, your mother?

**Clarke:**

Uh.......

/＼ ^._.^ ／\


	5. Feelings

> _**Clarke:** Lex, tell me. Why would a vampire need cold medicine?"_
> 
> _**Lexa:** Clarke, I swear to God..._
> 
> _**Clarke:** For their coffin._
> 
> _**Lexa:** ...._
> 
> _**Clarke:** *laughing*_
> 
> _**Lexa:** You know, Clarke...tell me. What do you call a fairy who never bathes? Stinker bell."_
> 
> _**Clarke:** *stops laughing*_

* * *

In all the centuries Lexa had lived, if there was one lesson she could have learned, it was this: good things weren’t meant to last.

Case in point: the past week had been the best she’d had in—well, a very long time. Clarke was… living with Clarke was… there weren’t any words to describe it, really, except that for the first time, Lexa’s home felt full and warm. She felt warm. It was…pleasant, and therefore disconcerting.

There had always been that energy buzzing between the two of them, energy that easily grew to volatile sparks when emotions were high, such as when they were arguing. But lately it wasn’t like that. It was still there, certainly, and they certainly still bickered (like an old married couple, according to Raven, which made Lexa give her a glare that clearly said she would rip out her jugular if she dared say something like that again. Raven didn’t listen. Raven never listened. But at least Lexa had the satisfaction of watching Clarke’s wings flush peach and her cheeks scarlet), but there were also times it was…muted. Comfortable.

Like when they found themselves gravitating toward the kitchen at dawn and dusk, different meals for both of them, though their sleep cycle was seeming to match up; Lexa was up later and later, until the sun was scorching the sky, and Clarke took longer and longer to fall asleep, when they were closer to sunrise than sunset. They’d sit at the table and idly chat, sometimes insulting one another and making quips, but usually engaging in a quiet conversation about their friends, since Clarke apparently adopted Lincoln, Raven, Octavia, and even Anya as her own (though Anya claimed to hate the annoying fairy and Clarke claimed to be terrified of Anya, they both got along quite splendidly; Lexa was almost jealous).

Like when they curled up into their respective couches before the fire, Lexa reading her books and Clarke idly painting—flowers, always flowers, but sometimes green eyes and sharp jaws and plump lips that intrigued Lexa with their familiarity. She hadn’t seen her own reflection in so long. She didn’t dare to imagine.

They were becoming, for lack of a better word, friends. And Lexa was concerned.

Concerned, because she’d now done what she swore she’d never do again; she’d developed feelings. Attachments. For someone who drove her up the wall, and who would be leaving as soon as she found what she needed to find. She was here until she got the Flame, and then Lexa was supposed to betray her and turn her into the Coalition, and that would be the end of them.

Except Lexa wouldn’t. It was ironic; her heart no longer beat, but it seemed perfectly capable of still ruling over her. It was a terrifying thought, caring. Caring got you hurt.

Like right now, for example. It was late—for Clarke. Lexa had been glancing at the clock all day, anxiously wondering where Clarke could be. She’d said she was going on a trip to the local flower shops earlier, which was safe enough; she was not supposed to go to the magic shops on her own, fairies were not well known and she had no clan to protect her. But it had been hours and she still wasn’t home yet…until now.

“Clarke?” said Lexa in alarm the moment she staggered into the apartment, grey wings, crumpled and injured, arching feeling over her head and half enveloping her body as though shielding her.

Clarke managed to give her a half grimace, and Lexa was already at her side by the time she finished nodding.

“What happened? Who did this to you?” demanded Lexa, hands all over her body—and not the way Clarke had always imagined. She was fretting, more anxious than Clarke had ever seen her.

“You’re…gonna be mad…”

“I’m always mad at you,” said Lexa sharply, “Tell me what happened, now.”

“Okay, okay…I, uh…kind of…went to The Dead Zone?”

_“What?”_

“Let me finish,” groaned Clarke. Lexa fell silent and continued furiously glowering. “I went to The Dead Zone on my own. Yes, because you told me not to. Yes, it was…probably a mistake.

“Who attacked you?”

“Emerson.”

Lexa cursed, spinning on her heel. Clarke watched her pace through heavy lidded eyes; it wasn’t until the pain spiked again and her face contorted with pain that Lexa was back by her side in an instant.

“You are beyond foolish,” said Lexa furiously. “I warned you. I warned you, and you didn’t listen. Now I’m going to have to kill them all.”

“Oh, stop being dramatic,” muttered Clarke, panting slightly as Lexa helped her limp over to the couch. “You don’t have to kill them all. Just let the Coalition take care of it.”

“I _am_ the Coalition,” said Lexa through gritted teeth. “You know this. I am the Commander. No one fights for me.”

“Except you’d be fighting for me,” snapped Clarke. “Which is why it makes no sense.”

“If they attack you, they attack me,” snarled Lexa, seemingly before she could think it through; they both paused, shock coloring their faces. They both determinedly ignored the droplets of clear blue silently sliding down her tattered wings. The fury drained out of Lexa at once, replaced with shock and horror, when she noticed just how tattered the wings were, bent and crumpled and…ruined.

“Clarke,” she gasped, jerking her hand back at Clarke’s wince when she reached out to touch the wings without thinking. “Your wings…they are…”

“Gone,” confirmed Clarke, voice dull and with no emotion, though her eyes glimmered. “Yeah. I know. Happened around the time I blew up the rest of the mountain. My wings are gone, I can’t find the Flame, and I’ll never be able to return home again.”

Lexa paused as the words sunk in. “You…you blew up the rest of the mountain? With…with everyone inside? Even the…”

The tears in Clarke’s eyes brimmed over and she looked away, which was confirmation enough.

At once, Lexa shook her head. “You had to do it. You had no choice. I understand and the Coalition will stand beside you—“

Clarke gave a dull, humorless laugh that hurt to listen to. “Are you kidding, Lexa? I killed innocent people. Thralls who had no idea what they were doing. Put them out of their misery, drained them like they were weeds. I’m…you were right,” she whispered, horror-struck. “I _am_ the Commander of Death, aren’t I?”

“No,” said Lexa immediately, swallowing thickly and reaching out to Clarke at once. “No, Clarke.”

Clarke laughed again. “You were right the whole time! Guess fairies really are dangerous.”

“Clarke—“

“I bet you just love this, don’t you?”

“I—what?” said Lexa, aghast. “No, of—Clarke, of course not.”

“Bet you do,” said Clarke, smiling through her tears up at Lexa. “You were waiting this whole time for me to fail. So was the Coalition, I’m not stupid. I’m sure they told you to watch me.”

Lexa’s expression hardened. “Lincoln told you.”

Clarke shook her head. “No. It wasn’t hard to figure out, Lexa. You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. You wouldn’t let anyone blackmail you.”

Lexa stared at her. “Then why did you…?”

Clarke shrugged. “Who gives a fuck now, right? You got what you wanted, I fucked up. Tell the Coalition, run to Titus and squeal.”

“Clarke.”

“Do it, Lex, fuck off.”

“You know what?” said Lexa, annoyed now, “You did fail. Because you decided to be a fool, instead of just listening to me.”

“Yeah because you know everything!”

“I seem to know a great deal more than you, Tinker Bell!” snarled Lexa.

“More about murder and bullshit you mean, _tick.”_

“Why don’t you just go home?” said Lexa harshly, standing up and retreating from Clarke’s side. “You aren’t wanted here. I have made my feelings on your presence here very clearly.”

“Yeah, you have,” said Clarke, voice hard even though there were droplets of gray sprinkling into her tattered wings. “And I made mine known.”

“I’ll expect you gone by nightfall,” snarled Lexa as she stalked away, ignoring the guilt festering in her belly.

“Fine!” Clarke yelled after her.

Lexa paced in her room for the entire day. The house was silent since Clarke stormed out, slamming the door behind her. Shame was curdling within her, along with rage at herself. Why did she have to be like that? And why did she have to care period?

It was just a fluke, she promised herself later, when Clarke stumbled home so drunk she was unable to hide her wings and after Lexa tucked her into bed, she had to skulk the streets looking for any humans who might have discovered her. It was just a fluke. Caring about people…it was weakness. It was weakness.

The next morning, she scraped the dry bits of fruity pebbles off the bowl and hated the small smile lingering on her lips, and hated it even more when it grew into a smirk upon hearing a ridiculously hungover Clarke’s dramatic groan upon waking.

 

/＼ ^._.^ ／\

 

**Interviewer:**

So, back to our earlier portion of the segment...you said that you two had mind-blowing sex. Just what is so great about it?

**Clarke:**

Well, think of it this way. I have a pussy, right?

**Interviewer:**

A- oh my - uhm, we, uh, we can't- we shouldn't -

 

**Lexa:**

I believe he's trying to tell you we can't use such obscene language on this show, dear.

**Clarke:**

Oh! Sorry. Uh...okay. So. I have a virginia."

**Interviewer:**

Uh. What?

**Lexa:**

She's referring to her vagina. Just go with it.

**Interviewer:**

Oh! I see where you're pointing. I understand now.

**Clarke:**

Okay, so, with virginias, obviously, for most, it's the most sensitive place where pleasure is...you know, stimulated...right?

**Interviewer:**

Ahem, er, yeah.

**Clarke:**

Well, some fairy have that, and they also have wings.

**Interviewer:**

Okay...I'm not following you.

**Clarke:**

Our wings are just as much a sensative place as our virgnia is. So basically, it's almost as if we have two virginias. Not really two, just...like, we have twice as much an opportunity, twice as much potential for pleasure than humans do.

**Interviewer:**

Oh, I understand.

**Lexa:**

Meanwhile, for vampires, our fangs are essentially the same as wings are to a Fairy, though perhaps not quite as sensitive.

**Clarke:**

So basically, while...you know...we're...doing the do, Lexa can stimulate both down there and up here.

**Lexa:**

And Clarke can stimulate me down there, and my fangs up here.

**Clarke:**

I usually prefer to use mouth or fingers.

**Interviewer:**

Wait, so, you _lick her fangs?_

**Clarke:**

Pretty much.

**Interviewer:**

While you're....

**Clarke:**

Mmm-hmm. I'm telling you, it's crazy.

**Lexa:**

If I had knew we could do that, I would've proposed to her the minute she approached me in the bar.

**Clarke:**

And I most definitely would have said yes.

**Lexa:**

And that's just the most basic positions...

**Clarke:**

Yeah, that's not even including all the other crazy positions we can do, since you know, like she doesn't need to breathe, and I can fly—

**Interviewer:**

OKAY! I think we should probably take a break. And then go speak to the supervisor to ask her if we can just edit out this little portion of our interview, as I'm fairly sure that it's much too risqué to put—

**Clarke:**

I'm "fairy-ly" sure that if you do that, you'll ruin the whole interview. We're just being honest. And sex is a natural part of life. Besides, anyone who's too immature and naive to watch this interview shouldn't even be watching this in the first place. And if they were, then either it's their own fault for not watching what they watch, or it's their parental guardians' faults for not correctly watching them. Besides. Modern times. Everyone's corrupted now. None of us are innocent.

**Lexa:**

I agree with Clarke, 100% percent.

**Clarke:**

Thank you, Lexa. Besides, Mr. Interviewer, we used appropriate language instead of the other words. So I'm sure that they won't even have a clue what we're talking about in the first place. I mean geez, _you_ look like you don't have a clue what we were talking about. So there.

**Interviewer:**

Oh...I have a headache...Let's cut to commercial now....

 

/＼ ^._.^ ／\


	6. Explosion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy ClexaHalloweenWeek, kru. It's been a ball <3  
> One more chapter to go. I'd hoped to finish today but ran out of time. Tomorrow then!

> _**Clarke:** Hey Lexa, I just watched Twilight._
> 
> _**Lexa:** So did I, from my window._
> 
> _**Clarke:** I meant that new movie that the humans seem to like so much. You know it's about vampires?:_
> 
> _**Lexa:** Sure._
> 
> _**Clarke:** Vampires sparkle in the sunlight._
> 
> _**Lexa:** They...what?_
> 
> _**Clarke:** Sparkle. Like how rings do in the light._
> 
> _**Lexa:** What in hell? Are they trying to give us a bad name? That's so...dumb._
> 
> _**Clarke:** I mean, I can make you come by sucking your fangs. You don’t exactly have room to talk._
> 
> _**Lexa:** …but we’re gay. Everything’s better when it’s gay._
> 
> _**Clarke:** Well, I can’t argue with that._

 

* * *

 

This had to be a fucking joke.

The twelve sacks of groceries Lexa had been balancing in both hands fell with a thud to the floor. She gaped, open-mouthed, pushing her sunglasses up onto her head to take in the sight of the absolute mess strewn all across her apartment. Unfuckingbelievable.

“Clarke!” she thundered, storming into the living room. There were so many flowers, some cut into pieces and most of them withering and decayed, it was at first difficult to spot the blonde, but there she was. Kneeling in the center of the chaos. She even had the nerve to look entirely innocent and unaffected as she looked up at Lexa.

“Hey Lex,” she said casually, as though this was an everyday thing.

“What the fuck is this?”

“I followed a lead,” said Clarke with a shrug. “Octavia went with me.”

 _“A_ lead? A lead as in singular, as in _one_ lead? As in _one_ flower shop? _Did you clear the entire place out?”_

Clarke scoffed. “Of course not, don’t be silly. We hit a few places.” Her cheeks puffed out as she blew out a breath, bits of blonde hair floating in the air; she gestured, rather sadly and helplessly, at flowers surrounding her. “No luck, if you couldn’t tell.”

“I cannot believe you,” hissed Lexa, nostrils flaring as she eyed the shredded stems and stalks littering her couch.

“What?” exclaimed Clarke, frowning at Lexa now. “I had to be sure, and it’s easier to drain them all because you can’t drain the Flame, so I’d find it quicker! I’ll clean it all up!”

“And people say the fey are harmless!” Lexa’s face contorted in outrage as she swept her sharp gaze around the room, taking in all the dead flowers. “What a joke. Aren’t faires supposed to nourish life? You just killed all of these plants for no reason… _in my apartment,_ I might add.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Alright, Commander, you know how it is, you have to do what you have to do. You command your people, I command flowers, you should get it. No big deal.”

“Dead flowers?” When Clarke deadpanned her, Lexa wildly gestured at the mess again. “Look at this! You’re like—you’re like the commander of death!”

“What’s that make you, the commander of blood?” said Clarke dryly.

Lexa scowled. “That didn’t even make sense. You’re a filthy hypocrite and you made a mess.”

“Oh, _I’m_ a hypocrite?” demanded Clarke, flaring up at once.

“Yes,” snapped Lexa, “Every time I throw out a bouquet you bring in to ‘brighten up my kitchen,’ you whine for days about how I killed something only meant to bring joy and beauty. Yet you can destroy an entire flower shop just to find one flower!”

“I have a mission to do, I wouldn’t expect you to understand!”

“You wouldn’t expect me to understand a mission—I, who have freed my people from the clutches of the Ice Queen, who united twelve species against the evil of the Mountain Men—“

“Blah, blah, blah, all you do is brag about yourself. You’re so fucking arrogant I can’t believe your head hasn’t exploded by now! Commander my ass, they should really call you big head—aah!” She spluttered, falling back onto her ass, when Lexa kicked a pile of dead flowers straight at her face. By the time she’d sat back up and furiously cleared the bits of plant out of her hair, Lexa was already stalking away.

Lexa ground her teeth together so tightly her ears grated at the sound. Anger pumped through her, dull and pounding, but more so than that was the ridiculous smell clogging up her senses. Decaying flowers. The tomato sauce that had spilled out of one of the jars that had broken when she dropped the grocery sacks. Clarke. _Clarke, Clarke, Clarke._

Clarke had followed her right into the kitchen, fury crackling out from her like electricity. Lexa rounded the table to keep the distance, desperate to quiet the heated ache in her belly. Every fucking time they argued, it did more bad than good—Lexa was never sure what feeling was stronger, the anger or the arousal, the urge to sink her fangs into Clarke’s neck or her tongue into her—

“You are so fucking up yourself!” Oh, right. Clarke was still ranting at her. Lexa barely cast her a glance before turning; there were bits of flowers sticking out of Clarke’s boots. Lexa busied herself with cleaning up the kitchen Clarke always left such a mess. And Lexa thought rings of condensation used to annoy her. It was nothing compared to scraping off bits of dried cereal from old bowls.

Clarke continued to rant and Lexa contined to ignore her, until Clarke seized a plate out of her hands and then fumbled, dropping it; it shattered into pieces, and Lexa's temper spiked. "That was an antique!"

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Shove it up your ass along with the rest of the world." She turned, her multi-colored hair swishing. Lexa seized her by her wrist, yanked her back. "How dare you!" said Clarke, outraged.

"How dare I?" said Lexa, stung. "How dare you! I let you in to my home, provide you with warmth and security, and you—"

"Warmth?” said Clarke in disbelief, spinning around in Lexa’s arms to face her. "You treat me like how one of our kind treats the wingless! And security? Every time I sit down I have to wonder whether I'm on the menu for dinner! And this isn't your home, Lexa, this is a cold pile of bricks and metal you wallow in day after day!" She drilled a finger into her chest, emphasizing her next words. "You—are—a—coward!"

Lexa’s eyes went wide. "I am a coward? You dare say—"

"Yes, I dare!" she snapped. She stumbled back, out of Lexa’s grasp. "You hide from the world! You say you've created yourself a great life, but you've only created yourself four walls and a roof to barricade yourself in! You act like humans are sheep and you’re this mighty wolf! You act like you’re above it all, but I see _right_ through you.” Lexa’s mouth opened, closed. She was stunned into silence. Clarke pushed on, relentless. “When's the last time you got out, Lexa? When's the last time you stepped into the sunlight? When's the last time you took a woman to bed?"

If Lexa could have blushed, she would have. Instead, she merely clenched her jaw, a muscle twitching there. "That is none of your concern—"

Pure malice lit up her eyes. "Oh sure it isn't, not when I see you stand so far from me." Clarke sneered. "So careful, Lexa, all the time. You make damn sure not to let me catch you staring at me, but I do. I'm not an idiot. You're a vampire, after all. When you're hungry, it's apparent enough in your eyes."

Lexa drew herself tall, looked at Clarke coldly. "You flatter yourself, _Tinker Bell."_

"Don't _call_ me that!" said Clarke threateningly. She took a step forward, wagged her finger in Lexa’s face.

Lexa had to strongly resist the urge to just thrust her head forward, snap her jaws down over it. It would be amusing. But once she had that taste, she wouldn't be able to stop. Which was also one of the reasons she hadn't taken Clarke to bed. Not that she could ever let her know that.

"For one, it makes me feel like you’re not taking me serious." She glared up at Lexa. "I am a Fairy, not some silly girl."

Lexa arched a brow, maintaining that cool, untouched demeanor. "As if _you_ can take anything serious. Are actually you capable of doing anything adult, Clarke?”

Clarke practically bared her teeth at her, fire in her eyes. Jesus, she was acting more vampiric than Fairy. "Should I take you upstairs, answer that question for you? Wait." She lifted a finger, smiling cruelly. "I forget. You don't go to bed anymore, do you?"

"Are you referring to the fact that I no longer sleep, or that I'm practicing celibacy?"

Clarke snorted with mirth. "You aren't practicing it, you're living it!"

Lexa’s expression hardened. "As opposed to what? The opposite, which is fluttering around with pink wings and humping all the neighbors?" Triumph flared when Clarke’s cheeks turned a blotchy red and her wings screamed peach in her embarrassment. "Yes, that's right. I know all about your so called "booty calls" with my neighbor Niylah. She calls and you come running. You see, Clarke, I would rather practice celibacy than be slave to a human’s whims!”

 _"Come_ is the optimal word here, because that’s all I do,” snarled Clarke. "I can't help it if the _thing_ I live with has cobwebs in her pussy!”

"Cobwebs in my—“ Lexa spluttered, breathless and outraged with the blush she could not show. "Just what the hell do you mean by that?"

"You heard me! You’d probably be a bit more cheerful if you’d just get laid, too! And unlike most people, you happen to have a gorgeous woman under the same roof as you 24/7.”

"Oh my _God,”_ babbled Lexa, clutching onto rage like straws because her mouth was dry and she absolutely couldn’t provide validity to Clarke’s statement by showing how affected she was, “How conceited is it possible to get!"

"Well it's true! Look at me!" Clarke wildly gestured toward her body. "And I walk around this place practically naked, and you barely blink an eye!"

"Maybe that's because I don't like what I see!

"Maybe you should just fuck off!"

Their voices had risen to shouts. Then, as they continued arguing, Lexa noticed something. Little droplets of red, swirling and mixing with the mingled peach and black of Clarke's wings. Furious and exasperated, Lexa pointed. "What the hell is _that?"_

"I can't help it!"

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"It's not my fault if you turn me on!" she yelled into Lexa’s face.

"It is your fault!" she shouted back.

"Then it's your fault you have cobwebs up there!”

"I DO NOT!"

" _PROVE_ IT!"

_“NO!”_

“YOU HAVE COBWEBS IN YOUR _HEART!”_

That brought her back to reality. Lexa ignored the burn of her throat, giving an inaudible swallow. "No I don’t,” she said quietly.

"Why?" Clarke blinked, and to Lexa’s horror, her eyes glimmered. "Because you don't have one?" There was a wan gray, deep and terrible, splashing onto her wings, overtaking the red, black, and peach.

“I…” Lexa stared at her, overwhelming anguish rising within her at the sight. Shame and self-hatred warred within her, curdled in her lower belly, made her want to retch with it. She curled her cold fingers into fists because she wanted to reach for her, cup her face, and fall into her eyes. “I’m sorry, Clarke,” she whispered. “I…I never meant to hurt you.”

“God, _Lexa.”_ She angrily wiped at her tears, shook her head. “Don’t you get it? You hurt yourself, that’s what I hate! You keep yourself shut up here in your tower, nothing but a bunch of candles to keep you company, it’s like a crypt! And if you were happy with that, then fine, but I know, I _know_ you’re not.”

Lexa stiffened; she averted her gaze. “You don’t—“

“I _do,_ though.” She pushed forward, coming to stand right before her. “Lexa. You’re…you’re miserable,” she said helplessly, frowning at her. “What happened to you, what you’ve been though…losing Costia…I’ve never even heard you laugh more than once or twice. You don’t open up to anyone, not even Anya and Indra. Not even me.”

“Clarke, you’re—you’re better off without me,” said Lexa in a strained voice, desperation making her beseeching. “You are…you’re _good,_ okay?” When Clarke fell quiet, Lexa felt compelled to continue. “I know I act like you drive me up the wall, and you do but—but not in the way you think. You make the days brighter, you bring joy to others. I scare people. Death follows me everywhere I go. I would bring misery into your life. You’re _good._ And I am not.”

“No, see, that’s your problem. You don’t allow yourself to feel, to open yourself to the possibility that there’s more to your existence than feeding and surviving and surviving and feeding and—there’s more to _you_ , Lexa. You’re…you’re amazing!”

Lexa sucked in a breath, eyes flying wide open. She had certainly never expected to hear such a thing from Clarke of all people. “What?”

“You _are,”_ said Clarke earnestly, blue eyes shining bright. “And yeah, you’ve done some amazing things—forming the Coalition, defeating Nia—but that’s not why you’re amazing. You’re amazing because you donate to a thousand different charities. You’re amazing because you feed the cat next door and catnap her on occasion. You’re amazing because sometimes I’ll fall asleep without a blanket, but wake up with three layered over me. You’re amazing because the house has been filled with food since the week after I moved in, even though you don’t need to eat any of it. You’re amazing because you care so much, when you don’t have to.”

Lexa kept her gaze down, eyes stinging. The phantom beating of her heart was pounding away in her still chest.

“You make me happy,” said Clarke helplessly, tears still rolling over her cheeks. “You have since we met. You were—you’re not like anyone I’ve ever known. And the fact that you’re wasting away, it just—it worries me because I care about you, I don’t want you to hurt. I want you to be happy, as happy as you make me. I just—I want to make you happy, too, but if you don’t want me—“

“Clarke,” Lexa interrupted in a low voice. Clarke fell silent, looking uncertainly at Lexa, waiting. Lexa looked up, licking her lips, and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to reign it all in. She half expected Clarke to make a move right now when she was vulnerable; half expected to feel a pair of soft pink lips brushing a feather-light kiss to the corner of her mouth. But no such pressure came. When Lexa opened her eyes, Clarke was still standing there, hands clasped together, brow furrowed in concern, watching Lexa. Still waiting.

“Do you want me to say it?” whispered Lexa, watching her warily.

Clarke opened her mouth, then closed it. Blinked, and shook her head. “No, Lexa. I want you to be comfortable. I don’t—“

“I care about you,” said Lexa, and the lie burned on the tip of her tongue—it was more than that. It was so much more than that. She didn’t just care about her, she—Clarke was everything.

Clarke’s mouth hung open, blue eyes wide; she was frozen in place.

“I do, despite trying my best to fight it,” said Lexa helplessly. Her lips twisted wryly. “You have a way of getting under someone’s skin.”

Clarke swallowed audibly, before breathing out a chuckle. “I could say the same about you, Lex.”

No, no, no. This was too much.

(it wasn’t enough).

“This is temporary, Clarke,” she said gently, maintaining a composed expression even when Clarke’s expression contorted in disbelief and indignation. “That’s what we must remember. Anyone would grow close, would grow to care about one another, when they’re forced to live together for over a month.”

“That’s what you think?” scoffed Clarke. “Are you kidding me?”

“It’s true,” said Lexa flatly. She was lying through her teeth, but she didn’t know how else to fight this—this overwhelming urge to step forward and claim Clarke’s lips with her own.

“You are so fucking full of shit.”

Lexa’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“You’re not excused,” snapped Clarke. “I may be a hypocrite, Lexa, but you’re a liar. You act like you’re so unaffected by it all, but I see the way you look at me.” Saying it aloud seemed to center Clarke somehow, almost calm her—which unnerved Lexa more than anything. And Clarke noticed, the anger fading from her face, replaced by a dark intensity in her eyes, amusement and something else, something that had Lexa’s mouth go dry and put a warm ache in her belly. That was never a good sign.

“I’m going out,” she said automatically.

“Why? Scared to be alone with me?”

Lexa paused, clenching her jaw. “No.”

Clarke stepped forward, cocking her head so that the layers of her golden tresses fell over her shoulder. "Are you _frightened_ by me, Lexa Woods?"

Lexa’s pride wouldn't allow her to take a step back. "Don't be foolish."

Clarke paused, the corners of her pink lips quirking up. "And by that would you be meaning don't be foolish and kiss you, or don't be foolish and assume you're frightened?"

"Both."

Yet she continued to advance on her. "But wasn't it you who declared that I am, actually, quite the foolish person?"

Lexa narrowed her eyes. "You know I was right. "

The quirk broadened. "Yes. And I don't care. Call me an idiot. I'm happier than you. But what I don't understand," she said suddenly, now hardly a foot away from her, "Is how I'm the one called foolish, yet _you_ were the one who kissed _me_."

Lexa nearly took a step forward, but then she would be far too close to Clarke than safe to be. "I told you that was an _accident,"_ she said fervently, as if saying it would make her believe it.

Clarke gave a tinkling, scornful laugh. "What, you tripped and your lips fell on mine? I don't think so." She took another step toward her.

"I'd had too much blood that night," she persisted. Fuck pride. She hurriedly backtracked.

Three strides of Clarke’s had her backing Lexa against the table. "Come on, Lexa. You know you kissed me. And you liked it."

"Of course I did!" she snarled. "Entirely too much, and that's the problem!"

Clarke’s eyes were glowing sapphire under the kitchen light. "Don't you want to try it again, see if it's as good as the first time?" Her teeth shone milky white, flashed in a mischievous grin.

Lexa closed her eyes, swallowed hard against the bone-melting pleasure that trembled her body as Clarke’s hands smoothed on Lexa’s stomach, slid from her waist to her collarbone, down and up again. "Please, Clarke. We could be killed."

"If we're caught," she said in a tone that suggested she highly doubted they would. She underestimated their species' authority entirely too much.

"It's a risk we shouldn't take. It's too dangerous. You have no idea what—"

"Shh," she silenced by covering Lexa’s mouth with her hand.

Lexa scowled. "Very mature."

Clarke lifted a shoulder and let it drop almost absently. "You've also said I'm immature."

Lexa bared her teeth. "Stop turning my words against me."

Clarke glanced up at her from beneath her lashes, her face still tipped down. "Then watch what you say," she said lightly. Lexa almost let out a gasp when Clarke seized the folds of her shirt and yanked. Buttons flew as it ripped open down the middle. Clarke smiled warmly at her. "You're so pale.”

"Really, you'd think I would be tanned from the incredible amount of time I spend basking in the sun," she snapped, but a tremor shook her voice. Clarke had lowered her head down, pressed her lips to the valley between Lexa’s breasts. She barely caught the moan before it rumbled free in her throat. She swallowed hard, focusing on all the reasons why they shouldn’t do this. "We have to stop. You have to stop, Clarke,” she said, annoyance steadying her voice.

"Mmm." She nuzzled her face against Lexa’s cool skin. "Tell me you want me to, and I will. But you can’t, can you?”

Lexa gritted her teeth. "Don’t make me hurt you.”

Clarke drew her face back and smiled, reaching up to remove the sunglasses from Lexa’s head. "You will lay your hands on me. And it will hurt me. But not in the way you think."

Lexa watched as Clarke threw the sunglasses back over her shoulders.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she sighed.

"Because I'm really, really attracted to you, and I'm tired of fighting it." She smiled as she gripped Lexa’s shirt, began to pull her face down toward her. "So stop fighting it. Stop fighting me. Let yourself _feel_ , Lexa. I know you want me. Are you wet for me?”

Lexa bit back a whimper, but she didn’t deny it; she couldn’t.

"Please, Clarke,” she begged. “This—this is complete insanity. I'm a _vampire._ I drink blood. You're a Fairy. You pick flowers. Please don't make this any more complicated than it already is."

"You're going to kiss me,” guessed Clarke, her voice husky. "In about three seconds, you're going to give up, and you're going to kiss me."

"Stop me first," she pleaded.

“Do you really want to stop?” asked Clarke, voice so soft Lexa couldn’t have heard it if she was human. “If you really, honestly want to stop, if you can honestly tell me you don’t want this, don’t want me, don’t want to do this, then I’ll leave. Tell me, Lexa.”

“I…” Clarke wasn’t touching her. Wasn’t kissing her. There was space between them, however small and tense, and Lexa knew Clarke was sincere; she wasn’t going to push her beyond the typical seduction, that if this was serious, she would leave. Lexa’s legs trembled. The ache in her lower belly was so strong it bordered on painful. She couldn’t ever remember feeling this hungry in her entire unnatural life. She had always thought she was strong, but she was not strong enough for this. “I can’t.”

"Stop fighting it," said Clarke softly; her lips brushed Lexa’s. “Why do you fight it so hard?”

Lexa swallowed. “It’s—that’s my life. That’s how it is when you have a cursed half-life. It’s easier to shut the pain away, shut the feeling out. You focus on the basic things you need, you sate the hunger and you keep moving on. Life becomes all about survival.”

“Well maybe life should be about more than just surviving,” said Clarke, nose drifting across the apple of Lexa’s cheek. “Don’t we deserve better than that?”

"Maybe we do," whispered Lexa, “But…Clarke, we just…we shouldn’t…”

Lexa took a sharp intake of breath that emerged as a hiss when Clarke took Lexa’s hand and moved it, pulling it toward the blistering heat between her legs, and Lexa cupped her without even making the conscious decision to do so. Clarke’s breath hitched, her long lashes fluttering. Lexa watched in growing horror as more magenta droplets stained her ruined, flightless wings. They fell among the other colors of the wings like a downfall of rain.

“We shouldn’t do this,” said Lexa, remembering herself. "We can’t.” She bit back a groan when she slipped her hand into Clarke’s leggings, pressing her fingers up into the damp fabric of her panties. Clarke’s eyes were still wide.

"I don’t want to stop,” confessed Clarke, cheeks red and wings redder. “I’ve never wanted anything like this. Like you."

"Clarke," said Lexa desperately, even as she pushed Clarke’s pants down, eyes darting to watch them drop to her ankles, smooth, sun kissed skin on display. She reached forward again, fingertips slipping through deliciously wet folds. "If I—if we—I could hurt you—"

Clarke’s eyelids dropped, slowly, and her face tilted upward. Her wings were a darker crimson than Lexa had ever seen them. "You can bite me. I don't care anymore. I don't care."

Lexa stared as the words registered themselves in her mind. "You don't...care anymore."

Clarke shook her head as she moved it forward and up. Her breath was warm as it feathered out over Lexa’s skin. "Bite me. Bite me anywhere you'd like. Bite."

She fingered Lexa’s jean zipper. Dragged it down. Clarke’s heart pounded against Lexa’s chest, so hard it was almost as if Lexa had her own back. Clarke pushed Lexa’s pants down. Lexa marveled as she kissed Clarke again how much Clarke smelled of flowers. Everything about Clarke smelled of flowers.

"This is...wrong..." said Lexa helplessly, breathing Clarke’s scent in deeply as Clarke’s feather-light touch drifted over her.

"I know. It makes it sweeter." She turned her head to the side, nuzzled and licked Lexa’s neck, causing her to shudder.

"Should we move to the bedroom?” gasped Lexa.

Clarke scraped her teeth along the underside of Lexa’s sharp jaw. "No. I can't wait. It doesn't matter anyway."

"But—"

"Lexa." Clarke took her chin between two fingers, met her gaze. Her eyes were like blue fire. "Shut the fuck up, and fuck me.” Then she moved her head forward, her mouth closed over Lexa’s, and she forgot all reasons of why they shouldn't.

Drugs, she thought dimly. Lexa had never done them. But she assumed this is what it would be like.

And then thinking was no longer an option.

Lexa pressed her palms to the small of Clarke's back, pressed against her tightly. Clarke’s hands were sandwiched between their bodies. She made a sound in the back of her throat that might have been a muffled cry, might have been, but Clarke was dragging her nails over Lexa’s back in a way that would have drawn blood if Lexa was human. She slid her hands up Clarke’s back, stopping when her shirt snagged at her wings. Swiftly, Lexa gripped the two sides of the front, pulled. It ripped cleanly, and hung off Clarke’s shoulders in loose tatters. She wore nothing beneath it, and Lexa wanted to moan a prayer to whatever God was up there smiling down at her.

Lexa urged forward, half-stumbling as she tripped and almost brought them to the ground. Instead, she managed to slam Clarke back against the fridge. Clarke did let out a cry that time, but she didn't seem hurt. In fact, she only tore at Lexa’s panties, ripping them off her, with more vengeance than before.

Clarke’s wings buffeted Lexa as she tried to get her arms around her.

"Oh, damn it," muttered Clarke, swatting at them. Aiming to help, Lexa grabbed one. And froze when Clarke moaned.

"What was that?" she said, raising her brows.

Clarke blinked rapidly, her lips parted. She was in just as much shock as Lexa. Lexa angled her head.

Holding her wing gingerly, Lexa stroked a thumb across the section she held. Clarke squirmed in place, bit her lip to hold back another moan. She sucked in a ragged breath, convulsing slightly, when Lexa did it once more. Watching her, Lexa ran her hand down from the tip to the bottom. Clarke cried out and fell into her, gripping her shoulders for support as she gasped for breath.

"Um." She swallowed, panting. "That was…I didn’t know they could react that strongly.”

Lexa watched the pleasure bloom across Clarke’s face when she kneaded the wing between her fingers. "I suppose when you desire, they're more sensitive. Interesting," she mused. "I wonder if that means—"

"Oh my God, _Lexa."_ Impatient as ever, Clarke clutched her shirt collar, jerked Lexa close enough to get her mouth on hers. "I never thought I'd say this, but you talk too much."

"Well it's an intriguing concept," she said defensively.

"I don't care, I just want you to fuck me.”

Lexa didn't want to argue. But maybe that was because Clarke had just dragged her tongue across Lexa’s throat.

"Fine." Lexa drew back long enough to give her a cool expression. "But you asked for it."

Lexa gripped her shoulders, spun her around so her back was to her, and spent the next several minutes paying very special attention to Clarke’s wings. All too soon Clarke was sweating and writhing, body juddering and straining for contact other than Lexa’s calculated torturing teasing. Well, if she wanted it, Lexa would give it to her. Slowly, deliberately, Lexa raked her fingers down Clarke’s wings. Clarke’s cry caught and her hands scrabbled uselessly, too slick with sweat, against the smooth metal of the fridge. She gasped Lexa’s name, pleading as she arched her back, squirming as Lexa stroked down one wing.

"Okay. Okay. Come on. Please. We gotta—I waited—we have to—you—"

Yes, Lexa thought it had been quite enough too; the heat pooling between her legs was almost unbearable by this point. Lexa grasped the hem of Clarke’s skirt, yanked so it fell to her ankles. Praise God, she thought. Clarke wore nothing beneath it, too. She smoothed her palms over the swell of Clarke’s ass, squeezing and kneading flesh before sliding lower, the inside of her forearm pressing against Clarke as she reached down between her legs. Clarke gasped, screwing her eyes shut as she widened her legs to spread her stance and tilted her ass up to give Lexa more room. She used her free hand to unclasp Clarke’s bra before snaking her arm around Clarke’s waist, reaching up to the soft underside of her breast. She squeezed gently before drifting her fingertips across stiff nipples, continuing to pluck and pinch as she positioned her other hand between Clarke’s thighs.

"Open your eyes,” she ordered Clarke. “Open them.”

Clarke opened them. They couldn't have broken their gaze even if they wanted to. Though she didn’t have to breathe in the first place, Lexa found herself holding her breath as she sank two fingers into slick heat. Clarke’s moan was loud enough it nearly hurt Lexa’s sensitive ears, but she was gone, too far gone, to care. The sound of Clarke’s heart, always faster than a human’s, was pounding rapidly and so loud it was as though Lexa could hear it inside herself. She sped up to meet the pace, Clarke’s moans catching, hitching into strangled gasps, as Lexa thrusted into her.

Lexa couldn't hold it in. Clarke’s blood was rushing beneath her hands and Clarke’s heart was thrumming frantically and Lexa was breathless and starving. Her fangs descended; they grinded against her teeth as her clamped her mouth shut.

Clarke’s half-closed eyes focused on Lexa’s fangs. She opened her mouth to speak, closed it, taking in another drag of breath. "Do it," she gasped, turning her head to the side so that gold and crimson hair swept to the side, exposing the smooth nape of her neck.

Lexa’s thrusts faltered with her shock; she resumed the pace when Clarke whined and rutted back against her, shuddering as the movement had Lexa’s forearms flexing against her ass. “What? Clarke—“

“Do it.” The gossamer shine of Clarke’s wings flitted briefly across before she spread them out of the way. The smooth metallic face of the refrigerator was fogging up with her panting. “Please, Lexa, I want you to, I want to feel you—“

She probably couldn’t have held out much longer anyway without stopping everything and leaving just to avoid this. Her head shot forward out of instinct, mouth clamping onto Clarke’s sweaty neck. Her clit throbbed as her fangs sank into flesh, warm blood spilling into her mouth. Words couldn’t describe it. It was literal heaven. Clarke’s sharp intake of breath lowered into a keening moan that had Lexa’s hips snapping forward, widening her stance so she could desperately grind against the firm roundness of Clarke’s ass as she added another finger and hooked them inside her, her rhythm disjointed but deep, and God, under normal circumstances she would be embarrassed of how desperate she was, but blackness was creeping toward the edges of her vision and there was a low, tight pull in the pit of her stomach that was sharpening into a point she could only hold onto—

Clarke made a noise similar to a choking sound as her body stilled, drew taut, and then broke. Her cries filled the kitchen as she shuddered and jerked through an orgasm Lexa could only follow. The point hurtled her right off the edge and she froze, open-mouthed, lips slick with blood, against Clarke’s neck and shoulder, before convulsing, squeezing her eyes shut as she moaned Clarke’s name, and then collapsed against her, limp and spent.

“Um,” said Clarke after time had passed—a minute, or several, Lexa didn’t know; it was probably the first time she had lost track of time in centuries—“Well. That was. God.”

“Are you okay?” asked Lexa dazedly, pulling back and blinking owlishly at the marks on Clarke’s neck. She leaned forward and dragged the flat of her tongue against them to close the wounds; Clarke twitched, humming.

“More than okay. Are you okay?”

Lexa sighed, unable to stop the smile from curving her lips. “More than okay.”

She couldn't see Clarke’s smile, but she noticed the specks of peach and light blue that appeared on the vivid crimson of her wings, and she heard her smile clearly in her voice. “Mmm. Good.” There was another moment of content silence, before Lexa felt muscles flutter around her fingers and Clarke twitched again. Smirking slightly, Lexa withdrew, a hand on Clarke’s hip to steady her as she pulled out of her, deliberately withdrawing her arm in such a way that the back of her knuckles ghosted across her again, smirk widening at Clarke’s quiet gasp. She’d remember that for later.

“I can’t believe you bit me,” said Clarke mildly as she straightened and turned, rubbing a hand across the back of her neck.

Lexa’s brow immediately creased in concern. “Are you—“

“I told you, I’m better than okay,” smiled Clarke, waving her worries away. “It actually felt…like, really good. I…wouldn’t be opposed to that happening again.”

Happening again.

Lexa stilled, though she tried to keep her expression impassive. Now that the fog of lust had cleared, she was able to fully realize what just happened. They just fucked. A vampire and a fairy. The Coalition was going to kill the both of them. Oh, God—

“Clarke—“

Before she could continue, however, a loud tapping gave them both pause. They turned to the direction it came from and both froze in terror; there was a bird at the window, a raven, with a scroll clutched in its claws. Titus. Did they know? How could they know? Were they being watched?

Clarke was clearly thinking the same thing, because she was hastily rearranging her clothes while Lexa had already shot forward to open the window and retrieve the scroll. She sighed in relief when she scanned through the message, but the fear hadn’t quite left her system yet.

“Raven sent a raven?” snorted Clarke. “And she…” Her eyes widened. “She found the Flame? Oh my God! Lexa! Lexa, do you know what this means?”

Lexa swallowed, hard. Yes, she knew what it meant. Clarke would find the Flame, take it home, restore her wings and her honor. She’d leave this world.

She’d leave Lexa.

“Come with me!” she said eagerly, blue eyes bright with excitement as she gripped Lexa’s forearm. “Will you? Please?”

And she should say no. Put some distance between them. Remember all the reasons why she was better off alone. She should really, really say no.

Clarke leaned forward to brush soft pink lips against Lexa’s.

“Yes.”

 

 

 

 

/＼ ^._.^ ／\

 

 

 

**Interviewer:**

So, you two are definitely an item now, and planning to stay that way, right?

**Clarke:**

Right!

**Lexa:**

Until I get bored, yes.

**Clarke:**

Lexa!

**Lexa:**

Just a joke, just a joke...bloody hell, you don't need to flick me like that....

**Interviewer:**

Are you planning on getting married?

**Clarke:**

Well, yes, the Fairy way.

**Interviewer:**

The Fairy way?

**Clarke:**

Yeah, because we already kind of did it the vampire way. Raven and Anya threw us a joint bachelorette party, which basically involved them inviting everyone we they know to get shitfaced. Jasper brought his magic moonshine and Raven blew up the bar before disappearing with Anya, or so we assume, because we totally walked in on them in the bathroom more than once that night. But for the Fairy Way, we're going to go to my realm, the Chancellor will marry us off, then we'll have our honeymoon in the City of Light.

**Interviewer:**

City of Light?

**Clarke:**

Yes, it’s a really nice place. There are quite a few people going there now. It's basically a beach, and the sand is white and made of stardust, so it's very, very soft and cool. The water is a little warm, and a gorgeous turquoise. During the day it's usually always cloudy with a slight breeze, and at night, the stars are only a mile above you. Since I can fly, I can almost touch them before I lose oxygen. Since Lexa doesn't need to breathe, I plan on catapulting her up into the sky to see if she can catch one.

**Lexa:**

Which will be so fun…

**Clarke:**

Sarcasm! 

**Lexa:**

Ahem. Anyway. It's a nice place. 

**Interviewer:**

Sounds like it. Can humans get there?

**Clarke:**

Nope.

**Lexa:**

Not at all.

**Interviewer:**

Okay....so...I guess this concludes this...very...odd....interview, then.

**Clarke:**

I guess so! It was nice speaking with you.

**Lexa:**

Entertaining, I suppose.

**Interviewer:**

Yes, uh...very interesting.

**Clarke:**

Wells, it was nice to meet ya. Bye.

**Lexa:**

Goodbye.

**Clarke:**

Well, come on, Lexa, let's go make some mutant babies. 

**Lexa:**

What every girl wants to hear from her fiancée. And you know we can't have children.

**Clarke:**

Good thing you already basically adopted all those nightblood ducklings then, Commander.

**Lexa:**

Sigh. Be glad I love you.

**Clarke:**

I love you too, more than anything.

**Lexa:**

I love you more than anything too.

**Clarke:**

Even candles? Oh, I'm pushing it now, aren't I.

L **exa:**

Yes, even candles, Clarke.

 

 

 

 

/＼ ^._.^ ／\

 

 


	7. Forever

 

> _**Clarke:** You know, I looked up some stuff about Tinkerbell, and I actually have a lot in common with her. I, too, am very pretty and need attention or I'll die._
> 
> _**Lexa:** A very apt description for you._
> 
> _**Clarke:** You know, as a vampire, you're a real pain in my neck._
> 
> _**Lexa:** Clarke._
> 
> _**Clarke:** But on reflection, vampires aren't very scary._
> 
> _**Lexa:** Clarke._
> 
> _**Clarke:** And you're a pretty cheap date too. Because, you know, vampires eat necks to nothing._
> 
> _**Lexa:** Clarke!_
> 
> _**Clarke:** Yes darling?_
> 
> _**Lexa:** I am naked here. Are you to shut up and go down on me or what?_
> 
> _**Clarke:** Hey! Unlike some people, I still have to breathe._
> 
> _**Lexa:** I didn't hear you complaining yesterday when I was down there for an hour straight._
> 
> _**Clarke:** Only thing you can do straight, babe._
> 
> _**Lexa:** Now are you going to put your money where your mouth is or what? For a vampire, these are high stakes._
> 
> _**Clarke:** Did you just...? Was that a pun? A vampire pun? Oh my God._
> 
> _**Lexa:** I thought you'd appreciate it._
> 
> _**Clarke:** God, yes, you're about to to get so many orgasms._
> 
> _**Lexa:** I sense many more puns in our future._

* * *

 

 

There was only one thing more incredible than watching a fairy’s wings be healed. And that was watching the joyous, relieved smile spreading across a beautiful blonde’s face.

“I can’t believe you guys actually did it,” said Lincoln, who like Octavia and Raven, was staring in awe at the small flower Clarke was proudly showing them in the kitchen of Lexa’s apartment. “You’re sure this is definitely it?”

“Of course,” said Clarke with a broad grin. Her bright blue wings fluttered behind her. “I already used one petal to heal my wings, see?”

“You’re lucky you didn’t lose your head,” said Octavia mildly as she bent down for closer inspection of the Flame. “You said Emerson showed up, right?”

“Yep. Lexa kicked his ass,” said Clarke cheerily.

“We were going to take him alive to be brought before the Coalition, but he took away that choice when he tried to bite Clarke,” said Lexa. She ignored the smug, teasing smile full of admiration Clarke sent her way and gripped her mug of blood more tightly.

“Titus will be annoyed,” said Anya, but by the casual way she lounged in her chair with her legs up on the table, she didn’t care.

“Titus can suck it,” said Raven. “Dude gives me the creeps.”

“Clarke? Do you want any eggs?” asked Indra from where she stood at the stove.

“No thanks, I’ll just have some cereal later.”

“More for me,” grinned Lincoln, moving up to receive a plateful from his mother.

“Well, I’m going to head out,” said Anya, standing abruptly. Her gaze shifted from between Clarke and Lexa, and if Lexa didn’t know her so well she wouldn’t have been able to discern the curiosity there—the concern. “I’m not telling the Coalition about this,” she said lowly to Lexa, who blinked back in surprise. “That choice is yours.” She leaned in closer, voice dropping to such a whisper that only Lincoln, with his enhanced hearing, would be able to catch it. “If I were you, I wouldn’t tell them at all. Fuck them. Fuck Titus.”

Lexa could only goggle at her retreating figure; it took a moment to realize everyone was staring at her; especially Clarke, who was looking very curious indeed. Lexa hastily rearranged her expression into one of indifference.

Thoughts whirled through her mind as the others continued chatting and laughing around her, everyone happy and careless. Lexa, meanwhile, was filled with dread. They were approaching the end. She would not betray Clarke, and Clarke would leave, and then Lexa would have to face the wrath of the Coalition. Although…the news that Emerson had been destroyed would make them happy. Perhaps happy enough to forgive her for not giving them the Flame.

All too soon, everyone was cleaning up and then heading out. Lexa nodded in farewell as Raven wished her goodbye, and then closed the door behind her, leaving Clarke and Lexa alone. Lexa avoided Clarke’s gaze, taking another long sip of blood.

The silence was uncomfortable. Clarke, seeming almost puzzled, began her chattering as she crossed the room to open the cabinet and retrieve a box of Count Chocula. "You having a good day?"

Numbly, Lexa nodded, her eyes fixated on the cup of blood she nursed in both hands. She didn't look up even when Clarke appeared right before her.

"Are you alright?" she said hesitantly.

Lexa glanced up, almost winced when she saw the dark bruising along Clarke’s arms, her neck, her mouth. Lexa bit her tongue and looked back at the cup.

"Lexa." Clarke rubbed Lexa’s arm, and she closed her eyes as the memories of last night flooded into her mind, seemed to seep into her and tighten her stomach all over again. "Why are you making things weird?"

Lexa swallowed, hard. She couldn't answer. She was afraid if she answered, Clarke would hear the weakness in her. Slowly, Clarke pulled up a chair beside Lexa and eased into it. Her eyes were wide, shimmering blue. "Lex," she finally began in a soft voice. "If this is about last night..."

"Leave me,” said Lexa, voice hoarse. "I don't want to talk to you."

Clarke only appeared hurt for a moment. Then she blinked, and steel hardened her face. "Well I want to talk to you, so too bad. Listen up." She scooted the chair closer so that Lexa’s knee was on the inside of one of her thighs. God, Clarke. "I want to know what you think."

Lexa’s brow creased, but she still didn't meet her gaze. "What I think?"

Clarke nodded. "Yes. What you think about last night. But first," she lifted a finger when Lexa opened her mouth to speak, "I want to tell you what I think about it. I thought it was unbelievable. Mind-blowing. I don't know about you, but it's never been that way for me. My wings have never been that color before, Lexa." She leaned forward, her eyes fevered. "They've never been that red and blue before. And I've never...I've never been so happy with someone. I was happy with you," she repeated, smiling a little. "Maybe not the happiest before, but during, and after? I was ecstatic. I couldn't have wiped the smile off my face even if I'd wanted to." She took Lexa’s hand, flipped it so palm met palm and fingers intertwined. "Whenever we touched, my skin burned. And I have Fairy blood, you remember, so I never burn. But you made me burn." She tilted her head up, brushed her lips across Lexa’s. "Every time we kissed—everything in me sang. You realize...what that means. Right?"

Lexa couldn't move. All she felt was Clarke’s hand in hers. Her skin seemed to sear her.

"Fine," said Clarke quietly. "I won't say it. But only because I know you feel it." Silently, she rose to her feet. "I’ll give you a choice, then. If you…if that meant nothing to you, if you don’t want me, then I’ll go. I’ll go pack right now, and if you don’t want this, I’ll leave in the morning, I’ll head back home with the Flame. But I don’t want that; honestly, I don’t even care about the Flame anymore. I want to stay here and listen to you complain about the flowers I bring in in the morning. I want to microwave your cup of blood for you, I want to curl up on the couch and keep watching movies with you, I want to kiss you in the evening when you wake, I want to do my best to make you happy, every day. I want _you_. So if you...change your mind, I'll be upstairs. Alright?" Without waiting for an answer, she bent down, brushed her lips across Lexa’s again, lingering this time. Then she drew back, pulled away. The warmth receded as she slid her hand out of hers and left the kitchen.

Lexa sat there for a good ten minutes, anger and guilt warring inside her.

How could Clarke do this to her? How could she burst into her life of seven hundred years worth of comfortable solitude? She just burst in, out of nowhere, and practically shoved emotions Lexa hadn't felt in centuries right down her throat. The anger flared.

What was she supposed to _do?_ They could never be together. They weren't right for each other. A vampire and a Fairy? Wrong, on so many levels. Like night and day. The moon could not love the sun. And not only that, but if they were together, the Coalition would end it faster than either of them could blink. It wasn't safe for her. She wasn't safe for her. You had to take care of the people you love, and by the Gods, Lexa had to take care of her. She…

She froze.

She loved her.

Oh, God, did she really step into it this time.

She turned around and walked straight up the stairs. Lexa knocked, heard Clarke murmur for her to enter. Then she opened the door.

Clarke was waiting for her. Lying there, huddled under the many sheets in her bed. If so many feelings weren't raging through her, Lexa would've laughed at how easily Clarke had predicted her.

"Clarke." She almost stumbled toward her. Stumbled, something she hadn't done since her human days.

Wordlessly, Clarke lifted her arms for her. Lexa’s weight on the mattress tipped her toward her so that she only had to shift an inch to the side to slide into her embrace. Clarke’s arms locked around him, and her hair overwhelmed her with its floral scent as she buried her face in it.

"You finally get it now?" whispered Clarke.

Lexa felt the cool slide of Clarke’s wings as they arched over her in an extension of her embrace.

"I'm sorry it took me so long." Lexa drew her head back to meet her gaze. Held it. "I'm sorry."

Clarke’s breath washed over her skin, warm and heady in its flowery scent, as she kissed her. "Tell me," she breathed against her lips. Her voice shook slightly. "Tell me, please."

"I love you." Lexa lifted her arms, ran her fingers through Clarke’s hair. "It took me awhile, but I get it now. I love you, Clarke."

One of her wings gleamed a pure red while the other shone a clear baby-blue. Droplets of yellow swirled throughout each. They sparkled like the sun. Her full lips held the hint of a smile as she raised a corner of the blanket. She was naked beneath it.

Lexa smiled. "You knew I would come."

Clarke tilted her head. "You think me that confident?"

"Yes." Her laugh was stifled against her lips. Clarke tugged her shirt out of her waistband, rolling so Lexa was atop her so she could pull it over her head. As hands smoothed along the plane of Lexa’s stomach, sliding up to cup the swells of her breast, Lexa shuddered and dropped her head. Golden hair tickled her nose as she whispered, “Are you certain, Clarke?”

“What?” Clarke was distracted, dark blue gaze lingering at the dusky nipples she exposed with a hooked finger tugging down a cup of a plain black cup. She blinked and met Lexa’s gaze when Lexa put a hand over hers to still her.

She looked at her intently. “Are you certain? The Coalition won’t be pleased. We may be able to buy some time when we tell them we rid the world of Emerson, but eventually…unless…” She paused, brow creasing as a new thought occurred to her. Her eyes widened, and a slow grin curved her lips.

Clarke smiled in response, tilting her head questioningly. “What?”

Lexa dipped down to press a kiss to her temple. “How would you feel about…trying to add Fairies to the Coalition?”

Clarke paused, mouth parting in surprise. “To the Coalition? Like…”

“You’d be the thirteenth clan,” said Lexa.

“You really think they’d go for it?”

Lexa shrugged. “They may not be happy at first, but if we offer incentive…your kind have things in their realm that we do not. Special plants, ingredients that could be used in potions…witches in particular, I’m sure, would be pleased to welcome your kind.”

Clarke stared at her in incredulous disbelief. “You’re serious.”

Lexa attempted to rearrange her grin into something stoic. “Always.”

Clarke snorted and playfully smacked her shoulder.

“I am serious, though. I think we have a chance of convincing them. And maybe…well, someone would have to stay on to join the council. An ambassador for the Fairies.”

Clarke watched her, eyes wide. For a moment, her wings fluttered purple. “I…Lexa. I’d be honored.”

Lexa smirked. “You may have to bow to us.”

The noise Clarke made sounded almost as though she were choking. “Bow?”

“Yes,” said Lexa innocently. “I may be just an ordinary council member, the ambassador for the vampires, but I am also Heda. I’m the one who joined the clans together. I may be tied with Titus and Becca on influence within the council, but I have sway they do not within the Coalition. They may expect you to bow to me, to prove your dedication to the clans.” She let Clarke gape at her for another second before winking.

Clarke laughed and flicked her forehead. “Really? I thought you were serious. I might be okay eventually with getting on my knees for you, but no way am I doing that for Titus.”

Lexa scowled and shuddered at that mental image, and Clarke laughed harder, circling her arms around her and dropping kisses to her throat. Lexa slipped a hand up her shirt, absently stroking the soft skin of her waist as she brushed another kiss across her temple.

“Okay,” said Clarke softly after a moment, “I’ll do it. But…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “What are we going to do if it…if it doesn’t work? And they come after us?”

Lexa sighed, nuzzling her nose into the warmth of Clarke’s neck. “I’d rather have a short amount of time with you than live forever without you.”

Clarke hummed, her smile curving against Lexa’s cheek. nose wrinkled. “What’s that quote in that old book you were reading? In that dead language? V something. I came to Earth, I saw you—“

“ _Veni, Vidi, Amavi._ I came, I saw, I loved,” murmured Lexa.

Clarke nodded. “That, right.” She smirked. “Although the came part…”

Lexa sighed, smiling slightly as she tipped her head forward, resting her forehead against Clarke’s. “Don’t ruin it with your dirty jokes.”

“Ruin it?” whispered Clarke in faux-outrage. She ran her hands over Lexa’s shoulders, down her arms to her wrists and back up again. Lexa shivered. “My dirty jokes make everything better.”

Lexa could respond with nothing more than a noncommittal hum, distracted as she gripped Clarke’s waist, swept her thumb over hipbones and absorbed the shudder Clarke gave in response to her shirt being pushed up, warm skin exposed.

The rest of the clothes were peeled away, though they hit a snag once when Clarke’s bra was tangled around her wings and they had to take time to untangle it, laughing softly between exchanged kisses. Then Clarke was hovering above her, crimson tips of her hair grazing across her skin and fingertips flowing after.

Later, when fingers were buried inside her and Clarke’s tongue was slowly rolling down the length of her fangs, mouth swallowing her keening moans, she couldn’t help but to thank her lucky stars that this most obnoxious, kind, wonderful fairy had burst into her world and reacquainted her with how warm life could be, when it was spent with someone you loved.

Forever sounded like a pretty good damn deal.

 

/＼ ^._.^ ／\

**Clarke:**

Babe. Why do you look so nervous?

**Lexa:**

Clarke. I am Heda, Commander of the Trikru vampires, uniter of the clans, forerunner of the Coalition. I do not get nervous.

**Clarke:**

Okay. So then why do you look like you’re about to pass out every time my mother looks our way?

**Lexa:**

What if I give her a bad first impression?

**Clarke:**

Lexa, it’s okay. She’s going to hate you anyway, so it’s not like it matters.

**Lexa:**

_Clarke._

**Clarke:**

I’m kidding! Look, we convinced the Coalition we were okay, right? My mom should be a breeze after that.

**Lexa:**

True.

**Clarke:**

Besides. I love you, and you make me happy, so she’s going to love you too.

**Lexa:**

I love you too. So very much.

**Clarke:**

Now a kiss for good luck.

**Lexa:**

...Maybe one more...

**Clarke:**

Mmm.

**Lexa:**

Mmm.

**Clarke:**

Okay. Now you go. I'm going to get ready.

**Lexa:**

You'll be beautiful.

**Clarke:**

You bet your ass I will be. Now go, so we can get married.

**Lexa:**

Aren't you going to tell me I'll be beautiful?

**Clarke:**

Like your big, gorgeous head needs any more inflating.

**Lexa:**

I love you, you manipulative, conceited, obnoxious Fairy.

**Clarke:**

I love you too, you cold, sarcastic, arrogant vampire.

 

**Interviewer:**

I'm here! Sorry I'm late, traffic was terrible-

**Clarke:**

Finally. Oh, thanks for the fruit basket, by the way, it was lovely.

**Lexa:**

Yeah. Really enjoyed the blood oranges.

**Interviewer:**

I'm sensing sarcasm here...

**Clarke:**

She's fine, I gave her a gift right after it she definitely wasn't complaining about. Anyway, go get your seat, we'll be out soon!

**Lexa:**

I'll see you soon, Clarke, I love you. Now let's go get married, shall we?

**Clarke:**

I love you more than anything, Lex. We shall."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this silly little fic.  
> ClexaHalloweenWeek was so much fun, too! Thanks everyone! <3


End file.
